The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Forty-Eight

Abaddon remained open mouthed in stunned silence, gawking forlornly towards his fleet and the crumbling of his empire, when they burst in.

'What the hell have you done?' yelled a weasel of a man in an expensive suit, who looked far too tanned for a caucasian in space. He was swiftly followed by the remaining heads of the Corporate Shuttles. 'You've ruined us all.'

Nancy, Abaddon's long-suffering personal secretary, looked towards him helplessly apologetic as they burst past her. He casually waved her away and lit himself a cigar - buying ample time to compose himself and make them wait for his answer.

'Now now gentlemen, no need to get all het up. Everything's still going to plan.' He lowered himself uncomfortably into his plush, stately chair as they circled around him.

'To plan?' he yelled. 'What plan? Have you looked outside?'

'Now, I can assure you..'

'No Abaddon, you can't. We're all agreed you've lost control and taken this feud with Susan too far. This ends and it ends now, otherwise we side with Susan and you just see how long the Military stands by you.'

Abaddon remained motionless as a visible vein throbbed under his right eye.

'What did you have in mind,' he said coldly, taking another long draw from his cigar.

The weasel of a man strode forward. 'I've got a guy on my Financial Services shuttles who says he's got an 'in' with the Archangel and can get everyone around one table,' he motioned over to the man leaning casually by the door.

'He's a bright kid, one of my up and coming execs - got a big future ahead of him.'

A tall, statuesque suit strode forward with a plastic smile and slicked his hair back over his manicured and permanently self-assured face. Striding meaningfully towards the weasel, he greeted him with a powerful handshake and a winning smile.

'Thank you for Joining us, Rupert, I'm sure you recognise the Supreme Leader.'

'The big man himself!' boomed Rupert with his arms spread invitingly. 'I've read your book, sir, in many ways, I believe we're very much alike.' Rupert held out his hand as Abaddon stared back at him with unmoving contempt.

'Why don't you tell us your proposal, Kiddo,' said his boss, giving him a friendly pat on his shoulder.

'Of course,' said Rupert composing himself and dropping seamlessly into his sales pitch.

'Supreme Leader, I offer you the opportunity of a lifetime. I stand before you today holding the golden olive branch of peace that can make all your troubles go away, and it's yours... for the right price.' Rupert turned and smiled at his peers with self-satisfied assurance.

'Listen, Buzz,' he smarmed, moving in conspiratorially, 'I know Gabe personally; he's an old pal of mine. I can get him to bring Susan to a neutral location where you guys can pow wow, you know? Settle your differences, so we can all go back to making money, am I right?' Rupert winked at Abaddon who glared back, fantasising a multitude of satisfying sadistic scenarios he dearly wished to make true.

'And what do you want out of this?' replied Abaddon calmly.

'Two things,' smiled Rupert closing the deal. 'This is my pow wow I'm brokering, so me and my assistant get to be at the top table when it goes down, and trust me, you'll want me there to smooth things over when it gets a little bumpy, you know what I'm saying, Buzz? and secondly, I want a senior position in Government when we get to the new Earth.'

'Done,' said the weasel. 'You have two hours to get this confirmed, otherwise the deal is off. Understand?'

'Hey! When have I ever let you down, big guy.' Rupert gave him the two-gun salute as he strode confidently out the room.