CYS

“Young Carl waited for all his classmates to leave the class before heading home. His chest was filled by fear over the last few days, and the best strategy was to go home when no one was watching.

He stepped into the cold aisle, feeling the newly applied wax sticking to the soles of the expensive shoes his father had recently bought him. He looked both ways, made sure no one was watching, and ran towards the exit.

He leapt out the door that gave access to the common courtyard, where the students socialized and practiced sports in the breaks. He jumped across the court, entered the access ramp in front of the school, and before he could cross the door, a corpulent hand crossed the air and grabbed young Carl by the neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” shouted a boy, much taller and stronger than Carl. “Going out without saying goodbye?”

The boy laughed, and then two other boys, just as tall as the first one, appeared on the ramp and surrounded Carl against the wall.

“Carl,” said the chubby one, pressing Carl’s neck against the wall. He spoke so close to Carl’s face that he could smell his stinky breath and his belly rubbed against his body, making Carl sick. “How many times have I told you that you have to pay a toll every day?”

Carl was in silence. He did not know if the voice had stopped because he was afraid or because of the  boy’s hand pressure. Gradually, his face as pale as snow, began to turn red, then he closed his eyes, hiding the two blue balls under his eyelids.

“Are you listening? You idiot!” cried the boy again. “Did the cat eat his tongue?”

“Mark,” interrupted one of the other guys who was just watching. “You’re smothering him!”

“Shut up! None of this would have happened if…”

Before Mark could even finish his words, a hand, as big as a basketball, crossed the air and hit Mark’s ear.

“Run away, you little brat!” yelled the man who appeared there. “Before I slap your face even harder!”

“Do you know what you’re talking about?” Mark asked, scratching his belly. “I’m Miguel’s son, the best architect in this city.”

“And you chubby! Do you know who I am? I’m the guy who kills the most in this town! Will you face it?”

Frightened, Mark rushed into the street and disappeared, just like his two friends, who had long been gone.

Carl was trying to pull himself together now. He wiped the sweat from his face and tried to fix his blond hair, with the tuft to the side, as he liked.

He stopped in front of the tall man, who was waiting for him. He was tall and wearing safety clothes. He had a broad mustache and a face full of spots. A face of one who had faced many problems in life, with a peculiar way of solving them though. His eyes were cunning, but they showed pity now.

“Come on, Carl.” said the man at the time, breaking the silence. “Your father is waiting.”

Carl followed his father’s henchman and threw himself into the large pearly black limousine. They sat on the seats, face to face and remained silent for a long time.

Carl watched the landscapes, trying to contain the shame he felt inside and avoiding the look of his father’s henchman.

“What was that about, Carl?”  Carl did not answer.

“Talk to me. You can trust me.”

‘Rogier,” said Carl, stammering. “This boy, Mark. He keeps stealing my lunch money. Every day he tries to rob me, even when I’ve got nothing.”

Rogier coldly looked at the boy, analyzing his features and waiting to see if he would say anything else.

“This boy,” continued Rogier. “Is he really the son of Miguel Escuela?”

Carl nodded.

“Carl, I’m gonna fix this problem, and this Mark is not gonna bother you anymore. But I want to tell you something: one day you’re going to have to get out of this little box that you’re hiding into. You’ll have to face the world. And when that day comes, you’re gonna have to be cold and manipulative. Now come on, your father’s waiting and he’s not well today.”

Carl followed Rogier and they both entered the large building downtown New York, which was where his father’s office was located.

The headquarters of Paxton Departments was an entire building acquired by Richard Paxton, Carl’s father. In the beginning, it was only a railway company and it occupied just one floor of the building. However, Richard was a business tycoon and it didn’t take him long to open other companies in other areas. Taking advantage of the intense liberal wave that had spread across the United States, his cluster of companies grew wildly. Today, the entire building belonged to Richard, and certainly a lot of money ran through those floors. Money that would be Carl’s one day.

Rogier escorted Carl to the door of the CEO’s office, opened it, and let Carl in. He then closed the door, leaving Carl and Richard alone.

“Sit down, my boy.” said Richard, pointing to one of the chairs. Richard coughed, one of the long ugly ones, and wiped the drool with a handkerchief. He looked at the contents, and then put the cloth in his jacket. “Today is a good day for us to talk.”

Although it did not seem so.

Carl didn’t pay attention to what his father was saying. His father’s room smelled like nicotine and smoke hovered in the closed room, without ventilation. Eyes burned and the environment heat made it hard to concentrate. He couldn’t possibly understand the cost of opening one of the tilting windows and letting the air circulate, but actually, Carl knew the reason behind it. His father was paranoid and believed that if he left the windows open, someone could hear him from outside. In that case, wouldn’t a ventilation system help? But suggesting it to his father was pointless. Richard would come up with any excuse only to bring out one of his many paranoias.

Things had to be the way he wanted them to be.

But Carl didn’t spend much time thinking about his father. He hated dad’s bald head. He hated dad’s mustache. He hated how dad smelled. He hated the blue eyes, now turning gray with old age. He hated dad’s old clothes. Each day Carl felt more distant from that old man with whom he shared the paternal bond.

Carl and Richard weren’t very close. What broke Carl’s heart was the recent loss of his mother. His safe haven had left this world in a strange accident, where an automated car fell from the third floor of a building. Forensics said that the intelligence of the car had taken control and led it to fall from the parking lot, killing his mother and his younger sister.

“Son – said Richard, interrupting Carl’s thoughts. “I know you are very shaken. I didn’t want to talk about it right now. The truth is, I’m not ready yet. Your mother’s death shook me too, and…”

“Did you like her, Dad?”

Richard’s round eyes widened, frightened. But they soon calmed down. Richard coughed once more, and then wiped the drool off his jacket sleeve. Then he opened a drawer and took out a cigar. He lit up and took a long puff, inhaling all the smoke and then throwing it out. When he let out the smoke, his lungs didn’t seem to hold it and he coughed again, this time until a huge spit came out of his mouth. Once again, Richard wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket.

“I understand you, son. I never paid much attention to you. Not to you, not to Sara, not to her mother. I dived into my job, and I put you aside. And everything I’ve done comes with a price. But that doesn’t matter now. I have to prepare you for another tragedy.”

Richard took another puff on the cigar, and this time, his chest tried to push the smoke out once more with a cough, but Richard resisted, holding the pressure his chest made.

“Kid, the truth is your dad’s in trouble. The government is on my tail, claiming that my money was earned illegally. At the same time, my lungs… my lungs aren’t not holding.

Son, I have cancer and I don’t know if I’ll make it.”

Carl resisted the urge to panic at the news. For a moment, he looked at the sleeve of his father’s jacket, where he had been wiping his mouth. There was a dark pink spot. Carl understood that his father was coughing up blood.

“Father,” replied Carl, astonished. “There’s lung replacement nowadays, you can…”

“I can’t, son. I understand you’re worried. The truth is, I was negligent. I’ve had the symptoms for years, but it’s too late now. The cancer is spreading through my body. The surgery will not be simple and I will still need chemotherapy. But listen to me, Carl. If by any chance I leave this world, know that you can count on Rogier. He has access to everything that is mine and I trust him with my life. You can trust him too.”

Carl took his father’s answer as a punch, and after that, said nothing else. Carl also did not hear and did not see how he got home. He didn’t even notice when night fell. When he got home, he lay on his bed and stuck his face in the pillow, and there alone, he cried. Cried for hours. He cried until the sun came up. He cried for days, alone in his corner, without anyone being able to see him. Neither his father, nor Rogier, nor the housekeeper who helped keep the Paxton mansion in order.

The feelings that crossed his chest were of all natures. He felt angry at his father. He remembered every time he came home drunk, beat his mother and made Sara cry, and then went to the office and lit a cigar. The smell of ashes spread throughout the house as he polished his weapons collection, threatening any person who would bother him at work.

But also, the father and son bond tore his chest. His father was now the only pillar of his family structure. The man who assaulted him at night was the same one who helped him in the morning and during the day, the same one who took Carl fishing on weekends, even though Carl hated fishing. After remembering all of this, he cried even more, unable to move out of the bed or sofa, where he spent his days. And before he knew it, his father was gone, too, all of a sudden.

So his whole family had left this world and Carl couldn’t say goodbye to any of them.

Carl was sixteen when his father died. The two years that went by until Carl turned eighteen were the hardest ones for the boy. Carl finished his basic studies, not with the good grades he had in the past. The death of his father turned out to be the final card for his studies. He spent years isolated, giving little attention to entertainment and friends. Carl became a lonely person.

At the age of eighteen, Rogier began introducing his father’s business to Carl. Gradually, Carl began to understand the size of the problem he had on his hands. In addition to a dozen companies to manage, there was still the problem of the FBI investigating money provided with tax evasion and other illegalities that maybe Richard Paxton could have performed while alive. Rogier believed that with Richard’s death things might calm down, but on the contrary, they seemed to worsen.

The more time went by, the more the police gathered evidence so they could close Paxton Departments down.

However, Carl did not yet have the competence to take over his father’s post. In the last two years, Carl had difficulty concentrating and focusing on new projects. And despite sitting in the CEO’s chair, Carl  had done everything with Rogier’s help.

To try and make the process easier, Carl joined a University to learn about Management. Time has helped him understand company mechanics more easily. Even his concentration problem lessened when he started to think of an idea of where to go, and the hope of one day having everything under control, motivated him.

“That’s the report,” Rogier told Carl, when both were sitting in the presidential room one day. “Business is good. Not as well as on your father’s day, but we’ll get back on it.”

Carl coldly observed the graphics drawn on that mobile device screen. The graphic was clear for those who had experienced the past. A curve began at zero when his father started business and rose almost exponentially. Over the period of his father’s death, the chart reversed, and kept going up, but now at a much slower rate.

That chart brought several thoughts to Carl. One of them, the one that worried him most was that Rogier did not know how to run the companies. Carl needed to do something soon, before that chart reversed for good, and started heading towards zero once again.

“Rogier,” asked Carl. “How much money do we have?”

“So far so good” confirmed Rogier. “We have enough stored for many years to come… and there’s… Carl, you need to understand that there’s hidden money that your father earned illegally.”

“And can’t we spend that money? If we get rid of it, there’s less for the police to track down.”

“If the government catches you by any chance spending money out there, it will only draw more attention.”

“Right, but give me an amount, how much do we have?”

Rogier stood up and patted Carl three times on the back.

“Don’t worry, boy. I am heading to one of those hearings to stall the government once again. Soon, you will be ready, and all of this will be in your hands.”

Rogier left the room and Carl was lost once again in his thoughts. He felt trapped on all sides. The government wanted to take everything from him and maybe even stick him in a jail. On the other hand, he still had no control of his companies and Rogier seemed to be stalling him. He wasn’t even allowed to install a new air conditioning system in Dad’s old room. He was still treated like a child there.

That day, Carl came home and tried playing video games to make time pass, but his head traveled among various subjects, paranoia and an extreme desire to take control of his life. But, in any case, it ended in fear, and there, in his bed, he kept holding the tears threatening to come out of his eyes.

At the age of twenty-five, Carl looked fine. About to finish his Business degree, his name was one of the most famous ones. He hadn’t really been the best student, but everyone knew who he was and that, from then on, he would swim in an endless fortune of money. However, this was what was said, not what Carl knew he would face.

During his undergraduate years, Carl had seen two of his companies get shut down by the Government, including a shipping one, which brought cargo from China to the American States of the East; a new country that had been formed few years ago, since the great rupture between east and west of the former United States of America.

Rogier’s reports weren’t the best either. Gradually, the billing curve seemed to stop accelerating and start declining.

The expectation his college colleagues held upon Carl was extremely small, close to the real problem.

At graduation, everyone celebrated with their parents and family. Carl was accompanied by Rogier, but they didn’t celebrate. Dad’s old limo, still as beautiful as ever, left Carl at home after the event and Carl took the night for himself.

That day, Carl decided to open one of his father’s bottles of Paxton Legacy whiskey. In the living room, wooden floor, lustrous as a pearl, Carl walked around listening to the snap of his shoes against the floor. The only sound that could be heard in that mansion’s solitude. He walked to the large window, which was next to a small bar, added ice to a glass, poured the whiskey and drank it, feeling the characteristic smell of the drink and letting the torpor take care of him.

In the middle of the night, when half the liquid had been gone from the bottle, a heavy rain fell. Carl sat in front of the large glass window and watched the storm as if it were an event. He watched every drop that ran down the glass. Every ray that crossed the skies and its drawings, whitish on the black screen that was the night. He heard every thunder like it was classical music. When the nature’s show ended, almost at waking up time, Carl got up stumbling and took the bottle of whiskey by the neck.

Looking out the window, as if someone was watching him, Carl felt great. He didn’t know it was the booze talking.

“Time has come for me to sort my life out,” he cried, lifting the bottle up, as if it were a sword. Then he took the last sip and threw himself on the couch.

Lying on the couch, he remembered his mother and younger sister. He thought of crying, but this time, he smiled. He missed them, but he was happy for the time they’d spent together. Even though it wasn’t enough.

And that day, Carl slept without crying.

A rare occasion in his recent years.

Carl took the day after graduation off to ease the hangover. But he didn’t spend the whole day trying to do so. He got some plans for the next day ready, slept and woke up renewed.

It was about time he established himself. It wouldn’t be easy, but it had to happen.

Carl arrived at work smiling and greeting all the employees he met on the way, a new behavior that he decided to take on. He received both smiles and strange looks. And before entering his room, overcoming the shame, he made an announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen! I’m glad I’ve made it this far. As of today, I am no longer a Trainee, but CEO of this company and have officially taken over my father’s. Thank you all for the great work and let us get on!”

Some applauded and others remained surprised.

Carl walked into his room, placed his briefcase in a corner and pulled out another bottle of Paxton Legacy. He didn’t mean to get drunk that day, but maybe a drink could help. He poured a shot in a glass and took it all at once. Before he could sit in his chair, Rogier walked in, all fluffy.

“What happened, Carl?”

“Nothing. Just decided to promote myself to president.”

“You are not yet…”

“And when will I be?” Carl interrupted, provoking Rogier with his gaze.

“Carl, it’s not that simple.”

“Relax, Rogier” Carl broke the tense situation with a smile. “I’m just trying to get out of the psychological hole I’m in. Come on, sit down. We have something to talk about.”

Both sat, Carl in his father’s old chair and Rogier in front of him, still serious and disapproving of what was happening.

“Here’s the thing,” Carl started, bluntly. “I want you to deposit my one million Cybercoins into a personal account.”

“A million?” shrieked Rogier. “But that’s too much, Carl!”

“Don’t we have that amount?”

“We have. Much more. But it’s a lot of money!”

“Rogier. It’s time for me to act. You are doing a good job, shielding me from the perverse Government desires and keeping what is working in its place. However, we had two departments closed by the Government, one of them being the most profitable. Time has come, I must act like my father would. It’s been almost ten years since he left and I need to do something for myself. Give me that money, please, and I’ll invest in new business.”

“Carl, your father wouldn’t act like that.”

“No?”

So Carl took his mobile device, opened an email message and threw it on the table, so Rogier could read it.

“Message from my father.’

Rogier took the device and read it superficially.

“Look at the date,” insisted Carl. “It’s been a long time.”

“Two years,” commented Rogier. “Did you get a message two years ago? Why didn’t you tell me? And how could you have received this message with your father being dead?”

“All the respect to my father, Rogier. Look at the send date. He wrote it on his deathbed. He must have programmed that message for when I was older. Although he told me a lot of things, I was very young. Maybe he thought about sending some things at the right time. There could be even more for the future. Read it.”

Rogier hung his head for a while, and when he finished, he said with his head.

“Right Carl, right. I’ll give you the money, in memory of your father. Do not forget that this will cause a negative bump in our equity.”

“No problem. The money will be used so that we can have much more in the future. Don’t forget to give me legal money. I don’t want the Government bothering me because of what I’m going to do from now on. Also, I need a new room to work. This cubicle still smells like my father’s cigar and I can’t live without ventilation. Thank you very much, Rogier. Now I need to focus.”

Rogier left the room and Carl followed him with his eyes. When he was sure that Rogier had left the room, he looked at his father’s email once again. He thought of how innocent Rogier had been. There was a wrong letter in his father’s email.

At the end of the day, with a million Cybercoins in his private account, Carl called the driver and told him he would go home in a simpler car – no limousine at all.

“Head to that address,” he said to the driver. “I’ll have a few drinks today.”

Not asking questions, the driver drove through the streets of New York until he arrived where Carl had described.

“Mr Carl,” said the driver when he parked. “This place is kind of heavy.”

“I know,” answered Carl, sure of himself. “Leave the car running and wait for me. If anything happens, we’ll run out of here.”

Carl left his gray jacket in the car trying to look like an ordinary person and left the car, entering the strange bar he was looking for.

The bar was a scary place. A dimly lit cubicle with a countertop and more than a dozen sinister figures drinking and playing. Carl crossed the sinister environment and sat on a bench and placed his arm on the wide aged wooden bench.

“Paxton Legacy, if you please. Ice-free.”

Without hesitation, the bartender poured him a shot of whiskey.

“You pay in advance over here,” said the bartender. Carl pointed his watch to the payment device, which whistled with a green light, confirming the transaction.

While sipping his drink, Carl went back to analyzing the place. On the bench, there were other frowning boys drinking beer and other drinks.At the tables, people talked, drank and pinched appetizers. At a particular one, the group played poker, betting money within small circular and colorful chips. A sea of cigarette smoke hovered in the air. Everyone was smoking, even though the warning on the wall said it was forbidden to.

“Wanna eat something?” asked the waiter, interrupting Carl’s thoughts. “Chips?”

“No, thank you. I’m having risotto with mushrooms tonight.”

Carl slowly realized that he shouldn’t have said that, because he heard two men next to him calling him a bourgeois.

“Hey you!”

The two looked at Carl at the same moment, with eyes closed. They certainly thought a fight was about to start. One of them had an ugly scar on the face, caused by a knife or something.

“Do you know Hans Rock?”asked Carl. One of them laughed and turned his face.

“No,” answered the other. “Never seen him.”

“I heard I might find him here.”

“I have never seen him,” insisted the same man. “This isn’t your place, boy. You’d better get going.”

Carl ignored the man’s advice and kept drinking his whiskey. His first approach had gone wrong, but he could still talk to the bartender. To do so, he might need to finish his current glass, and once the bartender approached, he could ask for another.

Drying the cup, Carl drank it all. The moment he hit the glass on the counter, two giant hands grabbed him by the shirt and Carl literally flew through the air towards a wall. How long it took him to fly between the counter and the wall was enough to help him see all the details of the man holding him.

If only someone so big could be called a man. He was, to say the least, a bear. A bald man over six feet tall, muscles so big and hard they looked bulletproof. For a moment, Carl remembered a former movie actor and understood that whoever carried him could only be Hans Rock.

Carl felt his lung turn empty when his back hit the wooden wall. It took him a few seconds to recover, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed that the whole bar was watching what happened.

“Who are you?,” asked Hans. “What do you want with me?”

“I need something,” said Carl, feeling the lack of air. “They’ve told me you are good.”

“I’m one of the good ones, yes, boy” continued Hans, drooling with rage. “You’re the police, aren’t you? Tell me now and I’ll give you a chance to live.”

“I am NOT the police. I’ve got my own problems with it, actually. And seriously… Can you let me go? I can not breathe.”

“I’ll dump you in the trash can, you little prick.”

“No, no, please. Listen. I’ve got a proposition. And… I’ve got money.”

“Assuming that is true, I don’t do underpayments.”

“The service I have requires a lot to be overpaid, wanna hear my proposal?”

Hans let go of Carl, whose legs were now trembling, so much so that he could hardly stand.

“Well, shoot,” said Hans, calmer. “How much are we talking about?”

“One million,”said Carl, coughing. “Two hundred thousand for the first part and the rest when we finish the second part of the work. Is it good enough?”

Hans smiled.

“Yes, come and talk.”

That day Carl came home and washed his face in the bathroom, feeling his mask fall off. He washed his face once more, trying to calm down. His body was trembling like green bamboo. The two fiery trials he had been through that day, between lying to Rogier and negotiating with a famous thug took much of his energy. He held back the tears. He could not cry for he was a new man now. And that’s how he wanted to be.

Looking for further distraction, Carl went to the salon and had two more glasses of Paxton Legacy until he felt safe. In his thoughts, he went to his father once again. He took his father’s old cigar and tried to smoke it. He coughed a few times and reflected on his father’s vice real meaning. Cigar was what drove Dad to get the cancer that killed him and Carl didn’t want it for himself. He put it off and threw it in a dumpster.

Carl spent some time in his office, waiting for something to happen. Hans had said that the first part of the plan would only take a few hours to be done with. At dawn, Carl’s mobile device blinked with a message: “You’re right! I will send you much more information, things that you could not think of. Can we proceed to the second stage?”

After reading the message, Carl drank another full glass of Paxton Legacy. Looking out the window, he knew that the worst part of his plan was coming.

“Carl,” said Rogier, sitting in the presidential room next to Carl Paxton. “The situation is getting a bit complicated. The Government’s closing the game. I’m afraid the FBI will be knocking on our door at any moment. Any chance that million is bearing fruit?

“Yes, it’s already paying off. But it remains a surprise.”

Carl laughed at Rogier but he kept his face unscathed. He seemed to have no faith in Carl, or maybe, he thought otherwise. Carl was sure about what was going through his assistant’s head.

“Rogier, I’m aware of what you said. But I wish I knew more. I’m a little worried about what has been happening for more than ten years. I’ve taken over this company and still don’t know what is happening in detail. I’d like an update before the FBI actually shows up here to end all of it.”

“I understand, Carl” Rogier said, unwillingly. “But it’s too complicated. I have to spend a lot of your money to grease the right people’s palms. There are so many things…”

“What sort of things? Could any of them involve the death of my mother in that strange car accident?”

Rogier’s eyes almost jumped out of orbit. He tried to say something, but a corner of his lip trembled.

“I’m sorry, Rogier. I only said that because the news that aired yesterday about her death said it couldn’t have been an accident. I wonder what else you know. But it doesn’t matter now. I wanted to show you something else here. Something I started improving in the company. I had an early day conversation with the finance, and completed the company’s portfolios transfer to my name…”

“What?” Rogier yelled, almost jumping from the chair. “Carl, do not put your foot in your mouth.

“It’s not like that,” said Carl, calmly. As he spoke, he tried to read Rogier’s eyes. “As I told you, I want to own up to who I am and I won’t be guided by my assistant forever. The accounts being under my name is a more than necessary accomplishment . It’s past time things were like this. However, we realized that all the company’s money is not in the official accounts. Rogier, is there any other account where that money might be?”

Rogier jumped from his chair.

“Impossible!” he cried, a little louder than usual. “How can that be possible?

The two looked at each other for a moment, restless. Carl picked up his mobile device, typed a message and put the device on the table. Rogier was now wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Carl…” Rogier tried to start a conversation, but a big bang made the whole building shake.  “What was that?”

“I do not know!”replied Carl, frowning. “I’ll turn on security.”

Carl turned on the security screen in his office. He navigated the cameras until he reached the lobby of the building. There, the entrance door was all detonated, with smoke and fire spreading through the hall. Armed soldiers came into the building, using guerrilla strategies.

“FBI?” asked Carl, getting up from his chair. “Why here so early?”

“That’s what it looks like,” said Rogier, leaving the room. “Really early. I have to go.”

“No, Rogier. Please keep me company. I am… afraid.”

“Don’t be afraid, Carl.” said Rogier. “They can try it today, but I still have my resources. We won’t be caught just yet.”

“I’m talking about something else, Rogier. Something that’s happening right now, I’ve been getting some weird messages. Like the one I got from my dad.”

Rogier gave a strange look at Carl, who took his phone and threw it on the table.

Rogier picked up the phone, turned so white that it looked like his heart had stopped.

“That’s… the secret words of my Cybercoin wallet. How could anyone have found out? It is physically at my house.”

“In the drawer with the key?” commented Carl, holding a smile. “Under the pot of plants you grow. Begonia, isn’t it?”

“Carl…” Rogier tried to speak, but before he could say anything, Carl was pointing a gun at him.”

Rogier took a few steps back and tried to raise his hand, but Carl was faster.

“If you put your hand where you’re thinking, I’ll be forced to shoot. You better think twice before you draw your weapon.”

Outside the room, there was shouting. The officials stood up and ran. Further down, sounds of machine guns and grenades announced a conflict arising between Paxton’s security guards and the invaders.

“I tracked his wallet, Rogier,” commented Carl, with a cold eye. “Monthly transactions of over half a million Cybercoins. And you’re complaining about transferring me a million, which you can make within two months without trouble. Or maybe, greasing the FBI’s palms, so you don’t ruin what you had going on for you.”

“Carl,” Rogier spoke, raising his hands. “That is just wrong. Someone trying to deceive you!”

“Yes! And that someone is you. I also discovered some interesting things. Looks like my mom’s car program was switched while she and Sara were at the mall and the car was in the garage. I can’t believe the car’s intelligence took over. Quite the contrary, you went there and exchanged the program for one that would make the car throw itself by the wall of the third floor.”

“Carl…”

An explosion seemed to have happened close by. Carl began to get nervous and his hands trembled as he held the revolver.

“Shut your mouth, you traitor. You should have kept your promise to my father and brought me here with decency. You’ve dug your grave, I’ll just throw you in it.”

“Carl, you’re not capable of that. You will carry this guilt for the rest of your life.”

“Rogier, you once told me that, one day I would have to get out of the box I was hiding into. That I would have to face the world. And when that day came, I would have to be cold and manipulative. Well, that day has finally come!”

The gun fired a single shot and hit Rogier in the neck, who used his hands to try to stop the blood, but the pressure was so strong that the stream of blood ran down his fingers. Within seconds, he fell to the ground, motionless and dead.

A few moments later, the door was broken open, and a giant man entered the room, frightened by what he saw.

“Carl, is everything alright in here?”

“Yes, Hans. Now, please, get that body out of here and let’s talk about your money.”

Over time, Carl was able to regain control of his entire estate. The money Rogier embezzled wasn’t all he had stolen, but it was a huge amount, and with his hands in these Cybercoins, he managed to get the business back on track. Now Hans Rock worked as his private security and took care of the business safety. Hans’s team gradually increased and Carl had an army at his command.

However, Carl needed to catch up on the whole issue with the Government, and each time he managed to solve the problem, it seemed to come back at him a while later. It seemed as though there was a set date for his good life to end and all he could do was push that date forward. Focusing on solving this issue, Carl began the process of hiring a new assistant, who could focus on keeping the business running while he took care of the Government.

On an ordinary day of work, the office door opened and a black-haired young man came in holding a briefcase. His black eyes, which stood out from the pale skin, came into the room analyzing it.

“Sir, Coleman,” said Carl, taking off the earphones. “Sit down. I am sorry to receive you in this stuffy office, this was my father’s room. I’m designing a new one. Sit down please. Let me finish this call and we’ll talk.”

Trevor Coleman sat in the chair, nervous and anxious, and he waited.

“Are you buying it for a hundred thousand Cybercoins?” Paxton asked the person he was talking to on the phone. “Because I am selling it for one hundred and fifty. When your offer exceeds my offer, in any amount, you can call me. Until then, good bye!”

Carl hung up the phone and set it aside on the table.

“Sorry again, Mr Coleman. I was on a call. Have you ever seen it? I put something on sale for a price and they call me offering almost half of it. That is an insult!”

“Are you selling the house?” asked Trevor, his voice trembling.

“No!” replied Carl, with a smile. “My house is worth much more than that. I’m just changing limos. The current one brings me only bad memories. Well, let’s get down to business. Did you bring the test we sent you?”

“Yes, I’ve  brought the form so we could talk. I just didn’t think it would be an interview with the president.”

“Of course it is, Mr Coleman. It’s for my assistant’s spot! I want to know who I’m hiring. Okay, the question is, if I offered you two million Cybercoins to improve my business revenue, what would you do with that money?”

“Right,” Coleman began,  taking off some papers from the folder. “First, I looked at your area of expertise and found out that since your father was CEO here, you’ve invested heavily in transportation. Although one of its departments, the maritime transport, has been closed over recent years. Rail transport in the American States of the East and West has broken records of invoicing. Also, I identified that the department that works with air transport is the most outdated at the moment. So I was left with two options, reopen shipping or invest in air.

“And what was your conclusion?”

“I came to the conclusion that, given the situation in the world, I would invest in air transport. First, given climate change, shipping by sea is getting complicated. Many ships and tankers are sinking when they encounter cyclones or other storms, including the effects of such Cyclone Jandara, which experts say will never cease. Airplanes are much more dynamic, being able to divert from storms easily and are not influenced by sea currents, which are also becoming increasingly violent.”

“Interesting, your point.” commented Carl, looking at the ceiling. “But tell me more, investing in air transport is very vague. Give me the details.”

“Yes, of course.” Trevor seemed more sure of himself now, but his hands was still shaking as he moved the papers and showed Paxton the data. “I would certainly invest in aircraft production. Current producers still follow old manufacturing models. I mean, planes look exactly the same since the year two thousand. They’ve only changed the inner part, bringing more comfort to the passengers. Not to mention Freighter planes, because there are few for heavy loads. I speak of producing aircrafts capable of bringing iron and other heavy things from the Chinese Federation up here. With all this money at stake, we could set up a laboratory of studies to create models capable of carrying out such transport. In addition to producing giant planes for cargo, we could suggest new luxury planes, ones acquired by wealthy people around the world, who enjoy personalized and beautiful jets only to display their riches.

“And do you believe that manufacturing and selling these planes will make a good profit?”

“The luxury ones yes. A lot of people around the world will do it. But the transport ones I see with different eyes. With a factory, initially restricted to your business, we could inject these planes into your air transport department and start mastering air transport. I believe that, the transportation of heavy loads, within a few years, will make ships become obsolete.”

“I’m not sure yet, I’d have to think about it a little bit. Okay! I have a second question for you. And if I gave you endless money and asked you to do something illegal, what would you do?”

“Ilegal? What do you mean? Is this a test?”

“It is a test, but not to test your character. I want to know if you can do it. Assuming I was a criminal and I was hiring you, which would make it illegal for my business to make even more money.”

“Sir…,” Trevor stammered as he spoke. Now his hands trembled more than usual. “I would need to think about it. Come up with an idea.”

“All right, then think about it and bring me something within the next few days. You have carte blanche on my part for this plane factory project. Talk to the financial sector. I’ve already set the two million aside for you. I was very interested in this airplane-making scheme. You can set up the new department, hire engineers. Do what has to be done.”

“What do you mean, Mr Paxton. Am I hired?”

“Of course you are, Mr Coleman. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“But we haven’t even talked about my salary.”

“Coleman,” said Carl, now in a serious tone and with his blue eyes penetrating into Trevor’s soul. “As long as you work for me, you don’t have to worry about money anymore.”

Trevor left the room, still incredulous with what had happened. Paxton was smiling, pleased with his new acquisition. When Coleman closed the door, Carl took his phone and sent a message that said:

From my side everything is almost ready, and from your side?

And then he got a response:

Here as well, sir. I need you to hang in there just another week.

Regina Anderson lived happily. At the age of twenty-five, she had her professional life going for her. Working as a receptionist at the Paxton Tower, she didn’t have anything  to complain about; a good salary and a steady job. What Regina didn’t know was that, that day, her work would go under a special situation. Arriving at work, she sat in her chair at the reception of the Paxton Departaments and read the general message sent directly by the president.

That day, something would happen. And at the right time, Regina had a mission. Anxious, she concentrated, gnawing her own nails while the event had not taken place.

And under orders, she couldn’t leave her work station or eat.

The event started exactly at lunchtime. Regina was about to bite off a CyberFoods sandwich when an FBI agent walked in the door, followed by ten more policemen armed with machine guns. The secretary was frightened by what she saw and bit the snack harder, spreading mustard across the reception table.

Regina focused on her mission. She had explicit orders. When all the FBI soldiers entered the door, she pressed the red button under her bench and an alarm rang through the reception hall. A metal grating came down from the ceiling and locked the entrance door. From that moment on, no one else entered or exited Paxton Departaments. The secretary ran out of the room, escaping through a hidden door behind the reception desk.

“Come back here,” cried the FBI agent. “You girl…”

But it was too late. Regina was now locked in the coffee room, peeking through a hole in the wall.

From the outside, all FBI agents seemed lost. Locked in the lobby, no one came to welcome them.

“Start the operation,” said the police leader. “We will close everything.”

However, they couldn’t have expected what was about to happen. The walls opened and more than a dozen Paxton soldiers came out armed. Several hatches opened on the ceiling and other soldiers came out of them, rappelling on ropes. In a matter of seconds, a hundred Paxton soldiers were pointing their weapons at the officers.

“You cannot do that,” said the responsible officer, while the  Paxton soldiers took their weapons out. “Stop! This will only make things worse for you!”

“Shut your mouth,” said the Paxton soldiers leader, pushing the responsible officer with his huge arm. “We are in charge here. That’s why we do what we want!”

“The Government of the American States of the East is still in charge here. Mr Paxton’s corporation has crossed boundaries that are not acceptable under the law…”

Then, the Paxton soldiers leader slapped the officer in the face and he shut up.

“The Government in here is Carl Paxton. Deal with it or deal with the man himself.”

Carl was sitting at his presidential desk drinking his Paxton Legacy when he heard the alarm go off. He stretched out in his armchair and waited for his security television to show what was happening.

Paxton followed the whole scene of the policemen being surrendered by his soldiers and did not fail to give a sly smile to himself while admiring his audacity in challenging the Government.

Carl’s phone vibrated with a message from Hans Rock, informing him that he was aware that the plan had started and that the missions on his side were already in motion. So, Paxton got up from his armchair, turned over the remaining liquid from his glass and called Trevor Coleman.

“Coleman,” said Carl, on speaker. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir. Read the first message I sent you.”

Paxtou slid his hand over his mobile device and read Trevor’s message.

“Right. The aviation companies we were going to buy are already under the name of Paxton Departaments. That’s great, but now we’re in the middle of an emergency. The job I need done is the other one.”

“Yes, Paxton,” continued Trevor, his voice fluttering. “But the second part would only work if this one was solved. Now read the second message, and please, delete it later.”

Paxton slipped his hand over the device once again and read the second message.

“Interesting,” continued Paxton. “Are you sure this will work?”

“It will! In 2021 a ship ran aground in the Suez Canal and the whole world stopped. Imagine with all this.”

“Do you know what, Coleman?” Paxton said, satisfied. “I wasn’t sure about you. But now I’m sure I’ve hired the right person.”

With everything he wanted ready, Paxton hung up the phone, typed in the secret word and sent the message to his two trusted men, Coleman and Hans. He took another sip at Paxton Legacy, but this time straight from the bottle. When he felt safe, he went out the door to face the FBI.

In the Paxton Departments lobby, a big screen came up front where everyone could see Paxton; well-dressed, presentable and smiling.

“Gentlemen,” said Paxton, to the FBI officers. “Forgive me for putting you in this position. But what was I to do when you’re trespassing on private property?”

“Mr Paxton,”  insisted the officer in charge, who was now handcuffed with a bleeding nose. – Just because you owe something it doesn’t give you the right to disrespect the Government. Please surrender and we can solve this in a civilized manner.”

Outside the room, on the streets, some cars were crossing with the sirens on.

“You see,” continued the head of the FBI. “Soon, others will be here and we will take it all by force, if need be.”

“Civility, my dear, is something I cannot find in your Government. I’ve been trying to get my dad’s business back on track with you guys on my tail for years, like I’m a criminal. Now, it’s my turn to show you how a Paxton solves things around here.”

“I know very well how a Paxton solves his problems. Apparently, you’re just like your father and you’ll have the same fate he would have had if he hadn’t died.”

On both sides of the hall, where televisions were showing a talk show, were now cut to a classic vignette of breaking news. Volumes increased and the televisions announced: BREAKING NEWS!

“Good afternoon!” announced Ed Toner, from the Global Channel, in an urgent tone. “We are here to show a great event in Egypt. We’re connecting with our correspondent. William Raik, what news do you bring us from Suez?”

“Toner!” said William, when the camera changed to him. “We just witnessed a terrorist attack here in Suez. Three large bombs were detonated on the length of the Suez Canal. We don’t know yet…”

As Raik spoke, the camera switched to the channel image seen from afar. Within them, three large explosions, as large as the eruption of a volcano, hurled earth into the air.

“Toner, the situation is complicated over here. Look how far we are from the canal and the size of the explosions. We already received news that the channel may become inoperable for years to come…”

“Raik,” interrupted Toner, stealing the scene. “We’ve got more. What? Panama canal? All right, all right…”

As Toner spoke, the screen shifted to a scene of a helicopter flying over Panama. On the screen, several explosions stood out over the locks of the channel.

“There’s more,” continued Toner, with the scene of a burning port… “Explosions in the Rotterdam port puts the Netherlands in a state of emergency.”

“Explosions were also detected at China’s largest port.”

“Explosions in Bussan Province…”

“The port of Santos, in Brazil, was completely destroyed by an explosion…”

“An aircraft carrier from the States of East America was completely destroyed while navigating the Indian Ocean. About seven fighters were destroyed in the process.”

“More reported explosions in Hamburg, Casablanca Port in Morocco, Dubai and Malaysia.”

“Another explosion on American soil. Now a garage that stored tanks of war were blown up by a very strong bomb….”

“Port of Los Angeles is on fire. No one knows exactly what happened…”

While television broadcasted all the attacks, a message kept reporting stock exchanges around the world melted. The names of some companies appeared with negative values and in red. Meanwhile, at some point, Paxton Departments crossed television with its value in green. By that time, Paxton’s business had increased by six hundred percent.

“You are wrong, officer,” said Paxton, of the big screen. “I am not like my father. I will go further than him.”

The officer tried to answer Paxton, but the television screen now shifted to the president of the Eastern American states, who was about to give a speech.

“Citizens of the American States of the East – started the president, who looked shaken, with his blond hair and his face as red as a bell pepper. “The world has been watching, over the  last few minutes, a series of events; all involving murder and destruction, all over the planet. At first, we had no idea what it was about, but now it’s clear to us. We’ve been hunting the Paxton family for a while. Richard Paxton, deceased, was a high-ranking mobster. And when he died, not only did he leave money for his son, but also the mafia he ran. Paxton, it’s only a matter of time before we catch you.”

The television image changed to Carl Paxton’s image, just as he appeared on the big screen in his company’s lobby.

“Good afternoon! Mr President,” Paxton spoke. “I am sad that you accuse me of terrorism. But do not forget that you and your predecessors also used such a method to maintain power. You brought a lot of wars around the world. Sometimes oil, sometimes just so the enemy couldn’t outrun you. All of it involved death, of others and Americans. I am very sad that you have seen my family as an enemy and have tried to eliminate us by trying to imprison us.”

The image has returned to the president.

“Families like Paxton’s,” the president continued “tend to be megalomaniacs. Accumulating a lot of wealth and losing their head at times when their companies stop growing, as was the case. So, that’s the way he found to try and be more powerful.

The image cut again for Paxton.

“President, I see it from another point of view. The Government does not support a company growing too much within its territory. Economic liberalism has a limit. And that was mine. Do you think it was easy to grow up having you guys do anything to stop me? How could a company like mine trust to open a branch here, just so they could be stolen at any time? Unlike the Government, I will bring glory to New York. This is going to be a showcase of what a place run by a company can do. No more exploiting the poorest for the enrichment of the few. Here, we will have a beautiful place for everyone.”

“Hypocrite,” said one FBI officer to another. “This guy is the vivid image of how to steal from the poor to become rich.”

As the two handcuffed officers talked, there was a bang outside. A police car was stopped and Paxton’s men got to them as well. Only then did they realize that the FBI colleagues waiting outside were also surrendered by the soldiers.

In a darkened room, an employee edited videos at lightning speed. He was so fast, not only by skill, but also by necessity.

The leader of the group observed a series of panels.

“Hey!” he said to the controller. “Are the towers in action?”

“Yes, sir!” replied the controller. “We are transmitting to the whole world. If the editor follows with his exemplary work, the whole world will believe that the president is talking directly with Paxton, and not transmitting a testimony. We are also cutting the useless parts of what the president talks about.”

“Proceed with the plan then. Paxton will be pleased.”

“American citizens!” said the president. “I urge you to calm down now. This is under control. In a few minutes, the New York police will have solved this problem and we will be able to arrest, so to speak, the greatest terrorist who has ever set foot on our soil.”

The image changed again to Paxton.

“Sorry to undo your words, President. However, New York is already under my control. The only way to get in here is if you bring the army. Which, by the way, it seems to me, judging by the news, that most of the country’s PLERs have been taken or destroyed. By my calculations, your country’s entire fighter fleet has been destroyed.”

President again.

“And if our army is not enough, the American States of the West will come to our support.”

Cut to Paxton.

“I very much doubt it, Mr President. The United States is no longer what it once was. The two sides of the country have split up over disagreements and hatred. Right now, it looks like the west side is invading the east side. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste my voice on this bullshit and take care of your territory, or else you’ll end up with nothing. And to the people of New York, I speak here. Do not worry. This will not be a dictatorship, on the contrary, I want the economic power of New York, as independent as ever. For those who need a hand, you’ll have mine. And together, we will achieve glory. The glory of a nation who will live independently of these worldly and ancient laws.

We will live here, in the future!”

Carl Paxton stopped the transmission with his eye on an indicator that said his company’s shares had risen more than 8,000 percent by that time. Then he turned his back to the camera that was filming him. He picked up his phone and read the two messages, Hans Rock and Trevor Coleman, both declaring the success of the mission.

Paxton ignored both messages because he was already satisfied. He pressed a few buttons on his device and made the connection.

“Hello,” said Paxton. “Who is this?”

“Mark Escuela, who ‘s this?”

“This is Carl Paxton, remember me?” The voice stammered on the other side.

“Yes, yes. I remember.”  The voice was trembling and the man sobbed as he spoke. “I just watched you on television.”

“Yes, I was there. I remember once, you tried to steal my money and you said you were the son of the greatest architect in this city. Then I learned that you followed Dad’s path.”

“Yes, I did. Carl, please!” now the man was scared and crying on the other side. “We were children. I didn’t know what I was doing. Please don’t do anything to my family.”

“Mark, what you do in life, you pay in life. And you owe me one! It’s time to collect.”

“Come on, Carl. Please! I’ll do whatever you want, but don’t kill us.”

“Kill? – Carl laughed, amused. “No, no. I’m just in need of a new office. My new corporation, Paxton Skylines, needs a new headquarter. In fact, New York needs a new look. Futuristic. High. Giant as it will ever be! By any chance, would you have the skills to redesign the city?”

Without waiting for the answer, Carl hung up, knowing that he would have his architect. Taking a few steps forward, and laughing, with bright spirits, and as if someone was watching him at that moment – or reading that account in the future, – Paxton lifted his chin and said:

“A master card!”

Then the set exploded with confetti and glitter. Music agitated the place. The employees of Paxton Skylines emerged, including Trevor Coleman and Hans Rock, and raised Carl high, praising his success. An eight-bit pair of glasses fell from the ceiling and snapped into Carl’s face, attesting to how powerful he was. Then, a sign popped on the screen saying: Game Play!

Alright, this last paragraph, I made it up, but as for the rest, I swear that’s all  true!”

• Report by the former media director of Paxton Skylines