Orbital Decay (Galaxy Mavericks Book 7) Read online

  The corsair steered for the roof of the center tower.

  Lightning struck and thunder shook the sky. The corsair’s engines hummed as it fanned out over the metropolis. Florian looked down at the city wistfully and wondered what was going on down there. Probably business as usual. People hustling and bustling in their lives, trying to make ends meet…while he was sailing the stars, seeing the best the galaxy had to offer.

  God, he loved being rich.

  Soon, the triple skyscraper towers of the Macalestern Corporation appeared, and the intercom beeped.

  “We’ve arrived, sir,” the pilot said. “Prepare for landing.”

  The corsair landed on a helipad on the Macalestern Central Tower, a resplendent beige skyscraper that stood in the geographical center of the living platform.

  The airlock doors opened, and Florian, Huxley, and Tatiana ran out, shielding their heads from the rain. A security guard in a poncho ushered them into a glass covered stairwell, and when they were out of the rain, they stopped and shook themselves off.

  “Mr. Macalestern,” the guard said, “Your aunt has requested to see you in her office.”

  “Got it,” Florian said.

  “Guess this is where we say goodbye for a little while,” Huxley said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m taking a nap.”

  “Sleep well,” Florian said.

  “What about my office?” Tatiana asked.

  “Show it to her before you doze off, will you?” Florian asked, following the guard.

  “I suppose,” Huxley said, grinning.

  Florian followed the guard into an elevator, which carried them down into the executive suite, a long, wood-paneled hallway full of huge offices with frosted glass doors.

  Florian passed by his own office. The door was locked, and the lights were turned off.

  He wouldn’t have minded a nap now, himself. He told himself that sprawling out on the comfortable leather couch in front of his desk with a glass of scotch, watching the storm go by wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the afternoon if he could.

  The guard stopped at the end of the hallway, in front of two double doors that led to Annaliese’s office. The guard nodded to him and left.

  Florian knocked on the frosted glass, and when he heard his aunt tell him to come in, he entered the spacious office. The lights were dimmed. It was sparsely but tastefully decorated, with several couches, a conference table, and a bathroom and closet. A long line of rectangular windows covered the back wall, and the window ledge was covered with potted flowers.

  Annaliese lay on her couch, with a forearm over her face.

  Florian shut the door behind him.

  “I’m back,” Florian said.

  Annaliese said nothing.

  “What is going on, Auntie?” Florian asked. He stopped in front of his aunt and then knelt. “You’ve been acting strangely.”

  And then he saw his aunt closer.

  She had been crying.

  “What is it?” Florian asked. “Is it a lawsuit? Did the chairman of the board say something crass?”

  “I’m sick, Florian.”

  Florian resisted the urge to shrug.

  “Did you go to the doctor, Auntie?” Florian asked. “Surely they can give you some medicine.”

  “Medicine won’t help.”

  Florian grew silent.

  After a moment, Annaliese took her forearm off her face and sat up.

  “I’ve been diagnosed with ALS,” she said.

  “Jesus.”

  “It’s progressing faster than expected.”

  Florian fell back onto the floor. Crawling back, he rested his back against a leather chair.

  “Naturally, I asked about a cure,” Annaliese said, “a treatment plan, a battle strategy to beat this. The doctor assured me that there was none. The only thing I can do is make myself more comfortable.”

  “Bullshit,” Florian said. “Get a second opinion.”

  “And I did,” Annaliese said. “It was the same.”

  “Then get a third!” Florian cried.

  Annaliese clasped her hands and leaned forward. “I can’t accept it, either, but it appears I have to. I’m dying, Florian.”

  “What caused this?” he asked. “Why would they just diagnose something like this out of the blue? I don’t get it!”

  “I’ve had symptoms for the last year, but I hid them from you,” Annaliese said, rising. She faced the windows. Thunder rumbled and the rain picked up. “I hid them from myself.”

  Florian closed his eyes and tapped the back of his head against the chair.

  “How long?”

  “A couple of years at best,” she said. “And at least one or two years of good life left before my muscles begin to deteriorate.”

  “God.”

  Florian breathed in deeply. Then he exhaled.

  He was going to lose her.

  Lose his aunt.

  Lose the only family he had left.

  He screamed and picked up the leather chair, throwing it against the wall.

  “This is bullshit!” he yelled. “I won’t accept this!”

  “Florian,” Annaliese said, “Shut up and sit down.”

  Florian shrank back, surprised at his aunt’s calmness. She hadn’t even turned around. He stumbled back and sat on the couch, staring at the floor.

  “I called an emergency board meeting,” Annaliese said. “I am going to announce the news to them shortly. But I wanted to tell you first. I wanted to give you some time to cope and process this.”

  Florian said nothing.

  Annaliese turned around.

  “My days as CEO are numbered,” she said.

  Silence grew between them.

  “My wish is that you succeed me,” Annaliese said, “but quite frankly, I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

  “I can do it,” Florian said.

  “It’s out of my hands,” Annaliese said. “Even if I could choose you, the matter rests with the board.”

  Florian’s eyes widened.

  “Masashi Sakamoto will also be considered,” she said. “And I won’t lie: he would make a fine CEO. He has been with the company long enough to have the experience. And he would be well-received across all departments.”

  The mention of Sakamoto’s name made Florian’s blood boil.

  “And I wouldn’t?”

  “No.”

  “And why the hell not?” Florian asked.

  “You’re bossy, you treat people badly, and you’re immature,” Annaliese said.

  “I don’t treat people badly,” Florian said. “If I ever have, it’s because they deserved it.”

  “I heard that you terminated the Non-Profit project without allowing the employees to celebrate.”

  “So?”

  “That’s not leadership.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re going to lecture me over a little celebration?”

  “It’s the perception, Florian,” Annaliese said. “It’s not the first time this has come up. I hope it will be the last. You need to start thinking of others instead of yourself.”

  “I put this company first,” Florian said. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done it for Macalestern, and you know that. I should be the first and only one on the list to continue your legacy!”

  She winced and grabbed her desk. Florian caught her.

  “You need to sit down,” he said.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  Florian helped her back to the couch. Then he hugged her.

  “I won’t let this disease beat you,” he said, embracing her.

  She let out a quick sob but then stopped.

  “If you want this, then convince the board,” she said. “That’s your only option.”

  Florian hugged her again, looking out at the dark, stormy skies.

  16

  “I will remain in the position for ninety days to give you time to appoint my successor,” Annaliese said.

  In the board room, a small room with
a long, rectangular table, the board of directors crowded around the table with looks of horror on their faces as Annaliese spoke.

  Florian folded his arms and leaned against the wall. The other executives stood around the walls, with blank looks on their faces.

  “I have spent the last three decades building this company into a legacy,” she said, glancing at Florian. “I would ask that you all remember that. But whatever you decide, I will defer to your judgment and pray for a smooth transition of power so that the company can continue to be a beacon of light during this hard economic time.”

  Everyone in the room whispered.

  Across the tablet, Masashi Sakamoto, whispered to a female executive. He looked the same as he always had—just older. When he noticed Florian staring at him, he nodded sympathetically.

  Florian turned away.

  “This is terrible news,” an Asian woman at the table said. She had big black hair and red lipstick. She was the chairwoman, Thanya Aromdee. “But as bad as it is, we want to thank you for all you have done and wish you the best during this difficult time, Annaliese.”

  Annaliese nodded.

  “With the current political climate, we are walking a very fine line in our operations,” Aromdee said. “There is talk of the Zachary Empire debating whether to sign another term of the Rah Accords. If they do not, there may be a war. If the Arguses follow, our corporate position will be precarious, as both may attempt to seize planets that we own and are selling. Therefore, we will need steady leadership to guide us through this uncertain period.”

  The fear and uncertainty was palpable in the room. Florian could sense it on the faces of the board members.

  Had he never considered the political and economical climate? No, he had a business unit to run, a career to grow, and people to cow into line when things didn’t go his way.

  “We have a list of people we consider contenders,” Aromdee said. “We have cultivated this list over time, you understand. A ninety-day timeframe is a bit aggressive, but we can make that work.”

  Masashi raised his hand. “By all means, chairwoman, let me know what we on the executive team can do to assist you, as I know that it will be a great deal of work.”

  What a kiss-ass!

  What a son of bitch!

  Florian raised his hand.

  “Yes, chairwoman, I echo Masashi’s sentiments, and might I add that I wish to be on your list of contenders if I am not already.”

  Aromdee looked at Florian, puzzled.

  “We do not wish to share the list at this time,” she said.

  “I can understand that,” Florian said, clasping his hands behind his back. He began to pace around the board room. “I am, of course, the only blood lineage left in the family line. After me, we’re no longer family-owned.”

  “Florian, shut up,” Annaliese said.

  He ignored her.

  “We have to ask ourselves what kind of company we want to be,” Florian said. “I trust that all of you in this room have your fingers on the heartbeat of the politics and economics. I don’t. But I am certainly ready to lead. All I need is your support.”

  “We thank you for the speech, Mr. Macalestern,” Aromdee said. “But we’ll be keeping this decision rather secret. Should you be considered for the position, which I will not confirm or deny at this time, you will be notified.”

  Florian nodded and held his hands up.

  “Completely understand,” he said. “And I would never do anything to interfere with the process. Since everyone is raising their hands to kiss up to you without saying what they really mean, I figured I would at least state my intentions plainly so that you know exactly where I stand, Madam Chairwoman.”

  Masashi scowled at him.

  Florian leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, suppressing a scowl.

  “Hey, Florian. Hey. Hey! I want to talk to you.”

  It was Masashi.

  Florian kept walking.

  As the board room emptied, Florian strolled toward his office. Every time Masashi called him, it gave him a spring to his step.

  Then he felt a hand on the underside of his arm.

  Florian pushed it away and spun around.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  It was just him and Masashi in the dark hallway. Rain beat on the skylight above.

  “What do you think you were doing back there?”

  Florian grinned. “I was simply letting the chairwoman know about my interest in the position, that’s all.”

  “And so you think humiliating me was the way to go?” Masashi asked. Despite his anger, his voice was calm.

  “If you were humiliated, that’s not my problem.”

  “You want this,” Masashi said. “but you can’t handle it. You’re young, you’re inexperienced, and you don’t understand the mettle a job like this takes.”

  “Screw you,” Florian said. “I’ve got all the mettle it takes and then some.”

  “You clearly want to protect your family legacy,” Masashi said. “This business is all you have. I get that. But let me give you something else to consider: I started working here when I was eighteen. Internship. Macalestern paid my way through college. I worked my way up; met my wife here, had my family, earned my way up the ranks to COO. This company is as much a fabric of who I am as it is yours.”

  “Touching,” Florian said. “And what’s your message here?”

  “Let me handle it,” Masashi said. “I will do this company justice. And when it’s time for me to step down, I will persuade the board that it’s your time.”

  Complete crap.

  That’s not how the rules worked and Masashi knew it.

  “I appreciate that,” Florian said. “It means so much.”

  “Somehow you’re not excited about it.”

  “What would you do if you were in my situation?” Florian asked. “Would you just let your family business go down the toilet?”

  “It’s not going down the toilet. If it were going to competent leadership, I would feel at peace.”

  “That’s the difference between you and me,” Florian said. “You’re all about reliability. All you care about is minimizing risk.”

  “Speaking of risk,” Masashi said. “Guess now’s as good a time as ever to tell you about your new assignment.”

  Trickery.

  The bastard was tricking him.

  “New ventures,” Masashi said, smiling. “The perfect place for you to prove yourself.”

  “New ventures!” Florian screamed. “You piece of—”

  “It’s not from me,” Masashi said. “It’s from your aunt. It’s the only executive opening we have right now. It’s a promotion. You’re on the executive team now, so don’t look so angry.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it. And while we’re being honest, do you want to know why you’re ultimately not going to be considered for this role?”

  “Like you have any idea.”

  “You’re rude,” Masashi said, “you’re unprofessional. You threaten people when you don’t get your way. I know all about your exchange with HR yesterday. You’ve rustled up a group of undesirable employees who honestly, would be criminals in another life, but somehow you’ve managed to stop them from getting into fights.”

  “My followers are loyal to me,” Florian said. “I can’t help it if they get overly enthusiastic. Isn’t passion one of our corporate values? Besides, who gets a hard-on about reporting to you?”

  “There’s a difference between passion and intimidation.”

  “Oh, like how you’re intimidating me right now by trying to insinuate that my team consists of criminals? Well played, Masashi. Well played.”

  “Regarding new ventures,” Masashi said before he started walking away, “I’m confident you’ll do a good job, Florian,” he said. “Goodbye…and good luck.”

  He watched Masashi walk down the hall, disappear into an elevator.

  He balled his fist
s.

  “New ventures?” Huxley asked, disgusted. “Good God.”

  Florian sulked in his office, swiveling in his chair.

  “You should have heard him sucking up to the chairwoman,” Florian said. “He would have started kissing her and taking her clothes off if he had the chance.”

  “Forgive me if I sound stupid,” Tatiana said, “but what’s a new venture?”

  “The new venture department determines what business ventures to take on next,” Florian said.

  “Why is it bad?” Tatiana asked.

  “Because I have no idea what they’ve been doing for the last couple years, and it’s going to take me at least ninety days to perform a full executive review. By that time, Sakamoto will be CEO. He planned this. He knew I wouldn’t be able to perform in a position like this. Damn!”

  “If you ask me, it’s a pretty awful situation to be in, boss,” Huxley said.

  “Thanks for the positive words, Hux.”

  “Anytime, boss. But really, what are we going to do?” Huxley asked.

  “Fire all of the existing employees in new ventures or move them to other departments,” Florian said. “I don’t want old blood. I only want people I can trust.”

  He grinned. “The only bright spot in all of this is that we got promotions. I’m now Associate Vice President of New Ventures. The beauty, if I remember correctly, is that I report to no one. Just the CEO.”

  “If Masashi gets the job, he’s going to be pretty tough on you,” Huxley said.

  “No, he won’t,” Florian said. “Not a for a while.”

  He sprung out of the chair and paced around his office.

  “Hux, amuse me for a moment. What motivates you?”

  Huxley, who was sitting on the window sill watching the rain, paused and regarded the question.

  “Erhm, I never thought about that, I guess.”

  “You’re telling me that there’s nothing in this big wide universe that makes you want to get out of bed in the morning?” Florian asked.

  “Money, I guess,” Hux said. “Always thought it’d be nice to have more money.”

  “Your dad is a financial advisor, you’ve got billions in the bank, and all you want is more money?” Florian asked.

  “You asked the question,” Hux said defensively.