For the Good of the Company by Chaz Osburn

When news broke this morning that the Chloe Dunham, the largest and most powerful freighter in our company’s fleet of intergalactic transporters, had disappeared following an intense storm in the Outer Belt, I did what any good chief executive officer would do. I called a press conference.

You don’t get to be a president of one of the largest mining and exploration businesses in the sector without being pro-active. I was thinking of my company’s reputation. Over the years I had attended countless media training sessions—this is a dangerous business—and I knew it was my job to get out in front of the story and do everything in my power to control the narrative. That’s the only way to negate bad publicity.

Remembering my media training, I tried to prepare myself for any question a journalist might ask by rehearsing with my AI assistant. But I didn’t expect the first to be this: “Mr. Chao, how are you feeling right now?”

How am I feeling? Less than an hour ago I’m told the Dunham—a ship that many thought was indestructible—is missing and presumed destroyed. A ship captained by my best friend, someone I’ve known for thirty years with a reputation for being the best in the business who also happened to be the best man at all three of my weddings. A ship with a crew of thirty-three men and women who likely won’t be coming back to their families. And you ask me how I’m feeling?

“I’m in shock,” I answered.

I wasn’t lying. I was in shock—and will be for a long time. Fortunately, I remembered enough of my media training to quickly add, “But this isn’t about me. I want to assure you, along with our many loyal clients and everyone throughout the system who rely on shipments of theta-plantonium ore from the Outer Edge, that we will do everything in our power to find out what happened. The safety of everyone involved has and always will be our highest priority.”

That didn’t sound half bad, especially for being on the fly. The last thing I want to do is say something that would in any way shake the confidence of the public and our board of directors. Especially the board. As they say, you have to think about the company. Gotta keep the revenue flowing, no matter what.

“Does that mean your company will cooperate with Senator Baxter’s recommendation to launch an investigation into the Dunham’s disappearance?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” I said. “We will cooperate fully should the senator’s recommendation come to fruition. This is not about us. This is about ensuring that shipments of theta-plantonium continue in order to provide a stable and sustainable source of energy for millions of people for years to come.”

Of course, that last part was complete bull. Companies like mine, Quadrant Exploration LLC, don’t cooperate in government investigations. We may give the appearance we do—my fellow executives and I will no doubt be called to give testimony blah, blah, blah and put out cleverly worded press releases to show that Quadrant “is a company that cares”—but we don’t cooperate. We can’t or we’d be out of business. Everyone in this industry knows the captain of the Dunham and her crew were pushing it. We’re not the only ones. But if we were to admit that, or worse yet have it prove that we were, think of the liability. The lawsuits alone would sink us. I would not want to happen. Not on my watch.

“The reports we have are that the last known transmission from Captain Stewart of the Dunham encountered something called the ozzies,” said another journalist. “Could you explain for those watching and listening what that is, Mr. Chao?”

“Certainly. Shortly after the development of sustainable fusion reactors in the mid-22^nd century—that’s the technology that has allowed us to construct ships capable of escaping the confines of this solar system—researchers began to notice a phenomena that, to put it in laymen’s terms, resemble violent thunder storms in certain, unpredictable sections of the galaxy. They are especially noticeable at the edge of our solar system and seem to increase in size and intensity every few years. Scientists are still trying to figure out why.

“Anyway, these storms cause space to oscillate. Think about being out on a large body of water, say an ocean, in a boat. On a clear, calm day the waves may be just a few centimeters and widely spaced. But during a storm, the waves may reach five to ten meters in height, which would potentially damage or sink a boat, even a large boat or ship.

“A similar thing happens in space with these SDOs, or space disruption oscillations. It appears this is what the Dunham encountered, according to the transmissions we were receiving until they suddenly stopped. But to return to your original question, the nickname ‘ozzies” was given by those first crewmen travelling on deep space vessels about a century ago and have stuck.”

“So, do you think one of the ozzies destroyed the Chloe Dunham, Mr. Chao?”

Ah, trying to trap me with my own words? Nice, but I’m on to you.

“It’s really too early to say,” I replied calmly. “And to be clear, we don’t actually know yet whether the Dunham has been destroyed. No wreckage has been detected.”

“Mr. Chao,” interrupted another journalist, “we have just learned that the Galactic Search Force has called off the search for the ship.”

Didn’t expect that question. You would think someone in our PR department would’ve let me know that before this presser began.

“I don’t have confirmation of that,” I said, “but even if it turns out to be the case our company has dispatched several ships to search for the Dunham. I remain cautiously optimistic that we will find them.”

Who the hell are you kidding, Ken? I asked myself. You know they’re gone. You heard the last transmission from the captain, that the SDOs were at the highest readings he had ever seen—point zero eleven. Hell, remember when you were a crewman on a freighter a dozen years ago and survived point zero six? It damn near killed everyone on board. There’s no way the Dunham, or any ship for that matter, could have survived a point zero eleven ozzie. A zero point eleven! It would flatten the ship thinner than a sheet of paper.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true, Mr. Chao,” said the journalist, adding, “I have just one other question before I let you go.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“How do you answer critics who say your company is sexist by continuing to name its vessels after women and referring to them by gender or using she and her pronouns? This is 2332—haven’t we gotten beyond that?”

Good lord, has the universe gone crazy? Our planet is at war with the Xycrons. We’re just barely keeping it together here on Earth. And I likely just lost my best friend and a crew of thirty-three and this is what you ask me? For God’s sake, I thought society had moved beyond this issue years ago.

“Just the opposite is true, ma’am,” I told the journalist. “Throughout its seventy-two-year history, Quadrant Exploration has had a tradition of naming ships after strong leaders who have had a positive impact on our company—and our system. It is purely coincidental that they have all been females up until my tenure. As you may or may not be aware, Chloe Dunham not only was our seventh chairperson and one who led Quadrant through eleven years of remarkable growth but also opened relations which led to a critical ore loading facility with the Cr’ats on the fourth planet on the Outer Edge and served as Earth’s ambassador to Saturn. Plus, Ms. Dunham also happens to be one of history’s greatest philanthropists, donating more than eight billion quantos to needy organizations throughout the system. I knew her personally, years ago as a young crewman coming up the ranks and have to say she was one of the most remarkable people who have ever lived. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go. Thank you for your time.”

With that, I left the podium and returned to my office. I sat down, sighed and cupped my hands over my face.

God, I could use a martini. Or three. And it’s not even noon.

My moment of peace did not last.

“Ken,” I heard my AI assistant say, “Charley is on transmission line one.”

Charley is the wife of Jack White, my best friend and captain of the Dunham.

“Hey Charley,” I said, switching on my personal communications viewer. I could see that she had been crying.

“Have you heard anything?” she asked.

“No.”

“I just saw that the GSF has called off the search. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I just found out.”

“Damn,” she said between sighs. “This was supposed to be the ship’s last run of the season before layup.”

“I know, Charley. Jack was really looking forward to it. That and getting home.”

“Damn, damn, damn.”

“I know.”

Charley turned away from the viewscreen to wipe her eyes then faced me again.

“What is it with you guys?”

“What do you mean, Charley?”

“You know what I mean. You… Jack, all you guys at Quadrant. Always pushing it. Ever since the two of you were first-year cadets with dreams to have your own ships. Always pushing, pushing, pushing. Anything for the good of the company. Oh, why the hell didn’t he end up taking a job in corporate like you? Why’d he choose a life in deep space?

For the money, Charley. He did it for the money.

“He was so proud that day four years ago when he was named captain of the Dunham,” Charley continued.

“For good reason,” I said. “She’s the fastest, most envied ship in the fleet. Any fleet.”

“I know, I know. Shipped more ore faster and farther than any vessel running. Set the speed record all four season Jack has been captain. He told me they were carrying twenty-seven thousand metric tons—twenty-seven thousand—on this trip. That’s two thousand more than any other ship’s carried. He’s told me what can happen when a ship the size of the Dunham gets slammed by a force eight ozzie fully loaded. And they tracked at least four force elevens past the perimeter of Pluto.”

“Let’s not go there, Charley. We don’t know what happened.”

Charley’s eyes narrowed. “How they hell can you say that, Ken? You know. I know. That ship would have twisted like a piece of wet spaghetti, snapped in two or worse yet, be crushed. Why the hell else would the GSF call off the search? Damn, damn, damn.”

Charley began to cry again.

“You know why Jack decided to take the crew out for one last run this season, Charley—and why he agreed to loading the Dunham with that much ore? He wanted his bonus to be large enough to cover the expense of taking you and the kids to Paris for the offseason. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What?”

You don’t need to tell her that it was you who planted the idea and subtly convinced Jack why it made sense to take the Dunham out again, even though you knew she was ready for an overhaul of its primary engine bank. Never mind that you’d get a huge bonus too because it would ensure the company finished the year with record profits.

“Charley,” I said, “all I’m saying is that this is no time for you—for anyone—to give up hope. The GSF may have called off the search but three hours ago I ordered three of our ships in the area to turn and go back out into the storm to search. Plus, as soon as I get off this call I’m flying to Saskatchewan to catch the shuttle to Mars and take out the Betsy Bingham—or whatever ship’s available—and join the search myself.”

Charley’s jaw dropped.

“You’re really doing that? You, the president of Quadrant Exploration, is joining the search?”

I didn’t tell her that just before I uttered those words, I received a text from one of the three captains that she believed she had the Dunham on her scanner and it appeared there were survivors.

“That’s the plan, Charley,” I said. “I’m leaving as soon as I get off our call.”

“Well, in that case…”

The viewscreen went dark.

“How am I going to explain this to the board?” I said aloud as I rose from my seat. “Protocol dictates that I should stay put. Hell, what does it matter? I’ll call them from Mars. Right after I get a hold of the PR department to let them know. I can see the media coverage now: President of leading mining and exploration company takes part in heroic search for missing freighter. This will be a story they’ll talk about for years. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t boost our share price as a result. Which means my year-end bonus will be so good I can finally buy that island I’ve had my eye on for the past few years.”

Chaz Osburn

Image: A space vehicle out in the starlit, black void with a glowing planet on the left hand side from Pixabay.com