Why Should I Die? Chapter 1

   Walking down an authentic oak wood corridor floor, which is seldom touched by synthetic leather shoes or shoes of any kind, Peter Blakely asks, “Do you know what this is all about?”

    Peter is heading towards the Corporate Board Room for an emergency called meeting with his assistant. He is one of the few men living today still courageous enough and defiant enough to keep his flesh and blood, personal Secretary, even with the Unified Earth Tribunal forbidding it.

    It's a pure non-romantic association with a beautiful woman, who would have been described in an earlier time, before your thoughts and speech patterns were monitored by your cortex implants for indiscretions or variance on the approved Political Correct Statement & Thought List, as a blond bombshell.

    Peter's preference has always been different though, which is why this association is non-romantic.

   His Secretary has been working with him since the early days. Right after he and his best friend Jonas played on the same recreational softball team after leaving High School.

    The two men first got together to play sports after finding out that they were quite alike, enjoyed the same type of music, and both saying that they would never work for anyone but themselves.
   Then the two men started a small business venture together, a Pizzeria. With their first employee being, the blond bombshell.
   Billionaires all, by the time they were between the ages of twenty-five and thirty.
   They didn't have to create one of those dot-com businesses, so fashionable at the time, to become rich. It was Jo's uncanny ability to predict World trends, economic indicators, outcome of sporting events, war, and even peace between Nations that resulted in these two men and Peter's Secretary staying together.

   With his insights alone, Jonas Van Hause became the World's first, double Trillionaire!

   Peter once asked his mentor why he and his secretary were kept on board of all his business ventures, since they clearly never had the foresight that Jo had.

   His answer, “Do you really believe, anyone in my position, could have any real friends? We have been friends since High School. And that means a lot to me”

   After that, Peter knew why his friend has always shown him the respect and courtesy he never afforded anyone else. Why he was the only human being left, besides Jo himself, with the sort of freedom one could only talk about behind a “Curtain of Cerebral Cortex Monitor Manipulators.”

   Today, Jonas Van Hause is more powerful than any President, King, or any other useless name given to the Heads of States pretending to control the Nation they represent.
   Mr. Van Hause is the Chief Executive Officer and the Founder of Hause Technologies, Products, and Permits to Life Incorporated.
   The only significant business left running the World.

   “No Sir,” says Peter's assistant, walking with him, stride for stride. “I knew it had to be something very important. Chairman Hause appeared in my head directly this morning instead of creating the usual Nanobot alarm clock outside my chambers to request your presence.”

   After a moment of silence, because of no verbal response by Peter, the now one hundred eighty something year old dyed blond woman continues her narrative of events.
   “He Nano-Transported everyone else directly out of their slumbers, to the Board Room no matter what type of condition or position they were in!”

   “I bet that took the starch out of Mr. Chang's shorts!” joked Peter. Still preferring to use the old fashion form of speech instead of his Broca Brain implants to communicate.

   “To say the least. Mr. Chang should have been arrested for the direct violation of physical contact with a member of the opposite sex for procreation! Under the new law, which he himself wrote,
states that all births will be genetically manufactured by the Permits to Life Corporation.”

   “I know the law my dear.” He answers. A little annoyed by his secretary's persistence over the years to consistently remind him of every little detail of every little thing that he needed to know before a Board meeting.

   It has saved him from embarrassment from time to time, but right now, it was a little annoying.

   Coming to the end of the corridor the chamber doors open in a grand sweeping motion.
   In the massive Cathedral type hall beyond, an echo is heard, “Come in, come on in Peter and Miss Shelly. Sit down. We've been waiting for you both.”

   “Sorry sir, I did not mean to have you or the other Board of Trustees wait for us.” Says a humbling Peter.

   “Nonsense, these men and women could learn a thing or two from you both. Like being gracious, thankful, and selfless individuals as you two are.”

   “Sir, I see the nanobots are busy clothing all the Members of the Board except for Mr. Chang. Can we please forgive any indiscretion; he might have shown this one time so all the Trustees are on equal footing. He is of the age, older than you or I of course, when human touch was still desirable.”

   Ever since Jo Van Hause's family was killed by a drunk driver, it has been against the law to drink alcohol and drive a gasoline guzzling vehicle.
   Soon afterwards, since he could no longer feel the touch of his beloved wife, Van Hause created the “Permits to Life” division of his Company. So now, supposedly, no one can touch a member of the opposite sex and all births are genetically produced.

   Since the World has gone into a two class system, it is only the wealthy who seem to obey the rules though.
   Besides, the labor force needs an outlet of some kind and if the peasants don't abuse the privilege, he'll let it slide.

   On the up side, with illegal births, the powerful rich have a steady stream of workers born each year. And when those unlawful groups of people reach the working age of sixteen, they can be shipped out to the new mining colonies on the moons surrounding Jupiter.

   Using an actual labor force is also beneficial, in that any intelligent second class revolutionary citizen, who has enough computer savvy to reprogram nanobots, won’t be able to start his own empire out there on Jupiter. 
   The fallout from the destruction of the old Mars colony, after they had claimed independence, proves that point.
   Even when the life expectancy, is only seventy years for these miners, it's a better choice than the new prison camps on Mars.

   Mr. Van Hause declares, for all to hear, while searching out each individual's eyes. “That, my friends, is why I value your opinion so much. You still care about others before yourselves."
   Few of the eyes are opened though.

   “As soon as you two sit down, we will begin, and Mr. Chang can have a rush order on his clothing.”

   Without anybody hearing a word, a white cloth starts forming around the lower torso of Mr. Chang. Two chairs stationed on either side of the Chairman, pull out from the walnut table used in a traditional Board Room setting. With the final act of showmanship, that of the Chairman's throne, as it begins to elevate higher, looking larger than the rest of the seating, so he is head and shoulders above all the Board Members.

This is,

The End To Chapter One Of,

Why Should I Die?

I Will Be Rewriting Chapter 2 Next Thursday,

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“Group Thinking” or lack of courage to ask the tough and strategic questions is the chief weakness on Boards today.”

- Pearl Zhu -

 

 That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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