Presentation, Presentation, Presentation.
The words reverberated in her head, straight from her father’s mouth all those years ago to her mind now, as she combed her hair to straighten it, and continued to meticulously make herself presentable, alone in the changing room save for a minor performer at the end fixing up her makeup before going back on stage. She chose to pretend as if she wasn’t there for all intents, picturing the room empty. After a few minutes, the performer left anyways, leaving her to her solitude, but those infringing few minutes hardly meant anything with her.
She had just started work on her makeup, something which she had foolishly elected not to apply, when her phone rang. She saw the notification in the corner of her vision, and simply willed it to answer itself. Her phone was, after all, nothing more then an elaborate pair of contact lenses given a neural link. She’d heard about attempts to make it into an implant, but implants got a bad wrap, EMP attacks in the mid 60’s had done that. She’d watched the reels when she had actually tried in medical school. People’s brains suddenly being filled with expanding electrified metal, eyes bursting like grapes being stepped on, cybernetic arms charring the nerves they connected to…it was one of the technological fields that she was frustrated had come to a halt, given the warmongering nature of humanity.
They’d expanded to the stars, terraformed worlds, effectively invented cloning, and invented medical procedures which could change any facet of the human body and form, and yet with most developments, they all had a fear of conflict. A shame, really. Sometimes, she truly hated humans, but then she would always loop back around to positively loving them. A vicious cycle, really.
Lost in thought for a few seconds, the entering into the next verse of the cyberpop song which was her ringtone spurred her from it, and she picked up.
“Chantelle. You’re onstage in four minutes. Did you get the file I sent you?” The gruff voice of her manager, Davis, came in through the feed.
“Of course. The teleprompter program is updated with your revisions to my script. I didn’t quite get a chance to survey for all the changes, would you mind summarizing them for me?” She asked, as she applied velvety purple lipstick to her lips, grinning at her truly rather sinister appearance in the mirror.
“I removed a few of your more risky jokes. We’re trying to appeal to a slightly more conservative base then normal, so pushing the boundaries with certain things like making light of Protean’s amidst the current climate is likely a poor choice. Additionally, I refined a few lines, cut out slang which the more elderly investors might not understand-some of them are in their hundred and thirties after all, and corrected grammar mistakes which may trip you up” He said it all in his normal condescending, but not quite condescending enough to call out, way. Equally monotone as well.
“Understood, thank you sir. I’ll take a chance to read back over the script before I head on stage.” The polite tone of her voice made sure that he would accept that answer.
“Be sure that you do. If this goes poorly, it’s your ass on the line.” He hung up.
She sighed, as she put the finishing touches on her makeup, with two minutes left to go. She look one last look over herself in the mirror.
Purple lipstick and eyeliner on her face, along with all of the normal touch ups which came with making her almost literally glowing. Her hair was tied up as best as she could, and styled a few hours ago to look like individual knots which went down to her lower neck. Despite her best efforts to get it cut frequently, the mass of hair which laid itself on her head was simply there to stay, unless she spent time she’d rather not and not as frequently as it would take getting it cut. This style would have to do. She’d had it dyed recently, a lavender color with electric yellow streaks which swirled around the knots for a visually appealing effect. She’d made sure not to disturb it as she’d done the rest of her preparations, because it took a bit to get perfect in line with the dye.
Below her neck, she wore the best dress she had, something designed relatively recently for her by a tailor friend of her sisters, after he’d heard about her presentation tonight. It was her first time wearing it, an extravagant purple which reflected the light in a way which made her literally glow when a spotlight was put onto her…which one most certainly would be. It was low cut, showing off just enough chest to give the appeal of the ‘young female presenter’ which apparently was supposed to give her a boost in what she was about to do. It was the one thing which irritated her, but at the same time, years of cosmetic and body altering surgery may as well start paying off. The dress reached her legs down to nearly the ankle, but slits around the side made sure her legs were plenty visible when she walked across an open stage. Once more, she didn’t like it, but hey, at least their was equity in the fact that the male presenters before her were wearing something equally…attractive. It was the 24th century after all, sex appeal to all was what was important, especially when rich people were involved.
Finally, her shoes, platform heels which she’d had to learn to walk in. They also had a grouping of other functions, designed by an Argetlam tech she’d had a fling with a few years back. They’d have their purpose soon enough.
With all of that, she seemed happy with her appearance. At least, enough outwardly that no one would bother to question things there. Her feelings didn’t matter that much, and ideally by the end of the night, she’d have enough royalty money that her ego wouldn’t have to take another hit like this ever again. It wasn’t that bad regardless.
She moved for the door, shoes letting out a pleasant and rhythmic click which went with the swishing back and forth of the dress’s reflective fabric. It reassured her slightly, as she exited, rounding the corner into the empty hallway. Less then a minute to go. The slow increase in heartbeat she could feel, doing her best to suppress the instinct to break down. Yet, she kept her pokerfaced appearance, and stepped in the elevator.
The glass door sealed behind her. It was a private elevator, so no advertisements scrolled past on the holographic screens she knew were installed all throughout the chamber. The transition from still to motion was seamless, and the slow roar of the crowd began to mutedly pass through her ears.
She put on a massive, charismatic grin, all of her pearly white teeth showing in full capacity, just as the elevator walls fell away, and the platform found her on stage.
The room she was in was vast, stadium sized. Her position was elevated above them, in the dead center, so she could see everyone, and everyone could see her. The room was dotted by a variety of different exhibitions, some as small as simple tents, some occupying vast parts of the room. Depended on the company, really. The smaller startups falling under the former, with the larger companies being the latter. Then, beyond that, the stands where all of the visitors and investors dwelled for now, waiting for effectively her approval to descend and enjoy the expositions floor. That was a reassuring thought, that she was the one keeping all of the rick bigwigs from their fun. But regardless, she had a job to do. No need for a microphone, they were built into drones now hovering near her, which included cameras for those who couldn’t see her well from wherever they were, or were watching from home. Millions likely watching, billions in credits on the line, she started to speak.
“HELLLOOOOOOOOOO HIVE!”
She called out, voice echoing into the room, light cheering and recognition in response. She grinned her best grin.
“My name is Chantelle Evergreen, your presenter and guide to the expo for the night! I’m here to give a bit of introduction before we jump into things, but don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”
She had a captive audience-almost literally, considering Davis controlled the blast doors and likely wouldn’t let anyone out for now. But they shouldn’t have to worry their pretty little heads about that.
“As you all know, ever since a little known space storm a few decades back, we here in the Y3K System haven’t exactly found ourselves with a lot of travel options. We’ve been locked off from the rest of humanity, experiencing humiliation after humiliation. A superhuman coup on the largest government in the system, scientific institutions burned by terrorists, and full on monsters cropping up every so often when whichever god is out there decides we haven’t suffered quite enough. And yet, here we all still are. Powerful, strong, every single person in this room committed…”
She casts her arms off in a grandiose gesture, as if trying to grasp the entire vastness of the stadium around her.
“To the future!”
She gave off the biggest grin she could, something which most certainly helped the charisma she gave off.
“Which is why you are all here, at the very first Grand Capios Technology Exposition. The greatest producers, minds and inventors have gathered here, under one roof, for the first time in decades, to show off humanities progress, despite the challenges we’ve faced. That, despite it all, we persevere!”
She takes another pause, for effect in her words.
“You may think we’ve already surely peaked as a species. We live in the age of flying transportation as the norm, the stars tamed, space the new frontline of war, drones being commonplace-hell, if it weren’t for the wonders of our world, you’d be talking to Mr. Evergreen up here!”
Laughter spreads throughout the crowd as she gestures to herself, chest area specifically exemplified, her grin never fading despite it all.
“But I assure you, ladies, gentlemen, and all in between, we’ve yet to scratch the surface. Warfare reimagined, Labor recast! A new definition given to the word ‘cosmetics’ and the latest in ‘net technology, and I promise you, much, much more. Because, most of all, it’s important to remember-” She flicked her gaze towards the teleprompter at the corner of her lens. What would going off script a little hurt? Davis could fire her later, she assured herself, but went ahead anyways.
“That despite how shitty it all gets. Despite any protean freaks which kick down your door, despite the inter-planetary wars raged across by…” She makes a brief exaggerated ‘ahem’ with her mouth, as she make an obvious look to a section of the crowd partitioned off under an misshapen Eagle flag “…no one in particular, and despite how many we lose on the front lines of progress, we still advance, marching ever forward. And, we have to honor that, more then anything. So, tonight, we’re here to prove it! Thank you, everyone, and have a wonderful time!”
She takes a nice, long bow, and pressed the button in her other hand, signaling the start of the event, as people were slowly trickling in to the event floor. She saw a notification from Davis popping up in her right eye, and dismissed it. She’d get chewed out later, she decided. For now, she had a secondary task to do. Her words finally started to dawn on her, thoughts trailing off elsewhere, to someone and someplace else. Before she could take anything resembling her own advise to heart, she shook it off, and got moving for her next destination. She still had to run the show, after all.
Her next destination wasn’t far, the moment she descended the elevator, the crew was waiting for her, attaching the camera rig to her head. It was a bit cumbersome, but it was hooked up to every computer in this place, with a team of editors editing down and spacing out footage in real time to be sent live with only about a five second delay. The rig itself was mostly invisible, cloaked with some clever tricks of technology. Another wonder that was commonplace, she mused.
Once it was firmly affixed, and she humored a few minute tests of the equipment (it all worked to perfection, as expected), she moved for the elevator again, this time with a mixed group of technicians and effectively hype people with her, to assist with her next task, which was, simply, to tour the convention, and make the inventors and corporations look as good as possible. Simply. She could sell it to the people at home with ease. She made sure the rig was attached, just as the elevator doors slid open, and she stepped out onto the floor.
She approached a firing range with her crew, logos of the Argetlam corporation, that of a silver hand grasping around a glowing outline of a planet plastered all around their large section of the expo. The firing range was only a small part of the larger Argetlam show, but this was what she wanted to exemplify-Argetlam were miracle workers, but showing all the miracles they’d brought here would mean showing favoritism which would be something of a bad look. Besides, she was about to show one her favorites. She approached one of the demonstrators, who shouldered a cylindric rifle with a silver sheen. He didn’t lower or adjust his visor or helmet as he turned to face her.
“-and here we have the Argetlam section of the exposition, tell me sir, what is it that you have there?” She holds out a very streamlined microphone out to him, mostly for effect, his voice would get picked up either way, it just helped for clarity.
“This is an Argetlam laser rifle. The latest in infantry level warfrare”
“Interesting, might we get a demonstration?”
The man nodded, raising his rifle, just as, on cue, a target in the vague shape of a human is raised up about twenty meters away. He aimed down the computerized sight, then squeezed the trigger.
No sound came out, and no visible trackable phenomena emerged. You could blink and miss the sudden less then an inch hole bored straight through the center of the target. The rifle was lowered.
“A completely silent and completely unavoidable weapon folks! Perfect for whatever monster ends up kicking down your doors next!” She said enthusiastically to her cameras.
The demonstrator nodded, shouldering the rifle again. “This will hit the market in a few months. We’re expecting legislation covering it to come up in various assemblies soon, but for now, unrestricted.”
She nodded enthusiastically “Very cool, very cool! There you have it folks, consider warfare revolutionized!”
Next, the crew came up on another display, this one belonging to Ferrous Corporation, a mining corporation from Capios which got it’s start soon after the upheaval-when property value plummeted. The display was mostly technical, however Chantelle sought to approach the most charismatic individual there, a younger man with a scar over one eye. She held a microphone towards him somewhat intrusively.
“Hello there! You represent Ferrous Corp yes?” She says injecting plenty of enthusiasm into her tone.
“Yes I do, my name is Mr. Johnson.” He says, smile creeping onto his face.
“Care to tell the viewers at home what you’re doing here Mr. Johnson?”
He gestures behind him, where a pair of relatively large drills were being tested on steel walls. One, a competing Argetlam Drill, the other a new model of Ferrous Corporation drill. The Argetlam drill made it a little ways, then sparked and snapped, while the Ferrous Corporation drill punched through without a scratch. “While it’s not the flashiest thing in the world, we’ve been working on making sure we make the most of our limited resources here in the Hive. Our competitors seek quantity over quality, and we seek the reverse of that notion, to make the harvest of resources more efficient, safe and effective, to keep prices down, and keep the system running smoothly. “
Chantelle suppressed the urge to yawn, nodding enthusiastically “That’s great! We all do love to do our part to keep the economy stable, and it’s always good to keep our essential functions safe! Thank you sir-” She said, moving to step away, Johnson breathing a sigh of relief as she did.
She approached next an area with a small crowd gathered around it. The symbol of the Frost Allied Group, a snowflake symbol hovering above most of their functions, having but one product on display. A cage, one which crackled with blue energy, with an individual inside. A slumped over…human. A protean human, actually. She was one of the more obvious ones, with larger muscle mass and clearly unnaturally thick skin being evidently on display. She moved through the crowd, which parted for her thanks to efforts of her crew and her important looking appearance. She strode past the perimeter, the guards in white and light blue armored not putting much effort into stopping her, knowing her status at the event. She approached the presenter, a man in a blue coat, black hair, and a face someone could easily find handsome.
“It seems you have quite the audianc-”
“Fucking kidnapper!” a voice from the crowd called. The censors would handle that, and she could see someone being peripherally escorted away through the crowd, but the crowd itself seemed about ready to burst with anger, curiosity, or both.
“-care to tell me what exactly you have here sir?”
The man nodded “This is the latest in technology to help curve the protean threat. The woman in the cage is a captured one, who took about forty Alliance heavy popups to apprehend. She then promptly broke out of prison, and killed even more people, before a professional ‘hero’ put a stop to her, and once more apprehended her. I’ve brought her here for a demonstration. You. Try to break the bars” He said in a commanding voice to the woman in the cage.
She didn’t move, staying slumped over.
“Go on, you were so keen before”
This time she tried, standing, breathing heavily, and grabs the bars, before pulling, with strength that could supposedly bend steel.
The bars not only didn’t budge, but seemed to crackle, striking her, and forcing her back down.
“I plan to offer these to any legitimate entity with issues holding the protean criminals which plague our streets, along with a new line of handcuffs and collars which can induce a similar effect”
“Fascinating, and something to be discussed! I wish you luck” She said, still smiling.
“Thank you” He said, returning it.
Chantelle then walked off, grinning. That had been the one display thus far she’d liked.
She moved on to an interview phase, where she planned to approach various convention goers, seeing their opinions on things and getting some good footage to show investors. The first person she chose was a man in a disheveled brown suit jacket and slacks, accompanied by a man with broad brimmed glasses and more well put together formal attire. She waved to get his attention before approaching
“Hello there-you’re Benjamin Beckett, aren’t you?” She knew him as a large scale humanitarian organizer on the planet of Urbos. A philanthropist with a good public face, and a hatred of cameras. So naturally, she got one in his face.
The man in the suit jacket chuckled, shifting from foot to foot with a slight bit of awkwardness “In the flesh. I’m just taking a look around”
“Care to name a favorite exhibit you’ve seen so far?”
He gained a wistful look as he thought about it “I’ve always been a sucker for public transportation, so the Tao Transit booth seemed promising. I dropped a bit of an investment as well-“
“Oh? Well what’s a man like you got to do with public transit?”
“I used to take the rail on Urbos almost everywhere growing up, to my parents annoyance. There was just something about it that always struck me…”
She smiled. How sweet.
“Well that’s lovely! I hope you enjoy the rest of the expo Mr. Beckett”
“You as well.”
She approached a grouping of people in suits, a figure in the center with sunglasses and a visible gun moving amongst a group of similarly dressed individuals. A name tag able to be read as her crew got close had a cartoon spider on it which read ‘Hi, my name is Wolf!’. She recognized them as members of the Weavers, an information agency…with little else to know about them. She had to speedwalk a bit to catch up with them.
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Can I get a brief word?”
Wolf paused with their group, before raising a hand to try and block the cameras view of them.
“No comment at this time”
“Bu-“
“No thank you.”
They said, before walking off, leaving Chantelle to her annoyance.
She moved to an area abuzz with cameras, taking pictures of a grouping of four people in ridiculous outfits she’d recognize anywhere. A hero team from Silvos, called the Champions of Justice. Four members, all proteans, named Peacekeeper, Newton, Bastion, and Roboticist. Varied power sets just out of a comic book, a good PR team and a well carved reputation made them one of the most well received groups around-not to mention their efforts in keeping the streets safe. They were moving about as the press buzzed around them. Most of the cameras moved aside for her, and she was soon face to face with the leader of the team, Peacekeeper, a woman in a decently armored blue and green costume, a peace sign on her chestplate.
“My apologies to interrupt you four, but I’m quite curious, care to tell me what you four are doing at this event?”
Peacekeeper nodded to her, and Chantelle could feel the smile beneath the helmet.
“Not a problem Ma’am. We’re looking about the expo, with the potential of getting some new technology prospects for my teammate there-” She nodded her head towards Roboticist. Chantelle knew his power to be technology interfacing, or something in that nature. He was the tech guy. “And we are generally interested in large shows like this as well as keeping an eye out for any evildoer plots, if I’m to be honest with you”
She laughed, and Peacekeeper laughed with her “I can’t imagine anyone trying anything with you here! Tell me, any standouts? I imagine the Frost showcase caught your eye?”
Peacekeeper’s tone noticeably dropped at least two notches in niceness when the showcase was mentioned. The reaction Chantelle had wanted and expected.
“I am in favor of technology to keep prisoners in jail once they are sentanced but I don’t approve of the method here, I must say. In terms of more interesting technology to us however, we did notice some wonderful innovations in the medical technology department, as I believe you mentioned in your opening speech, we can now give hospital grade care in more mobile packages if necessary-“
“Ah, naturally! Just in case, yes?”
Peacekeeper nodded.
“Just in case.”
A few hours later, the showcase was done, and Chantelle was exhausted. She’d kicked her heels off in the backstage, and removed the rig the moment she was able. Her neck felt like it had carried the world, and honestly, in some ways, it had. Her makeup was starting to run, and her hair wasn’t as immaculate as perhaps it was a few hours before. But, it was done. She heard footsteps, and looked over, just as Davis walked through the door, arms crossed.
They stared at each other for a few moments, before Chantelle broke the silence.
“How much invested?”
“An unfathonable amount. More then we could have hoped for. But we need to talk about you going off scrip-“
Her phone rang. She almost ignored it, before she saw who was calling. Mordecai. A family friend. He rarely called unless..
She held up a finger for Davis to pause, before picking up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Your sister just got discharged from her service. She’s headed for your unit.”
“I’m on my way.”
Chantelle pales, hanging up. Looking to Davis, as she grabs her heels, ready to head barefoot for her car.
“I’m so sorry-I have to go. Call me later!”
She said, halfway out the door, flinging it open and into the cold night air.
Kindling And Miscellany 