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⚒️ Takes One To Know One
by Joel Glover
“As I know all too well, working conditions at Cavendish facilities in the belt are at best dangerous, and at worst murderous.”
The best way to keep eyes on devices is to use colourful language whilst wearing revealing clothing.
Danae had grown under the glare of public scrutiny. The day she turned on her Viewme profile she attracted 147,329 connections. Even accounting for the bots, that was a heady number for an eighteen year old girl from a mid-sized country. By the end of her fourth day the number expanded tenfold. Having access to a yacht and friends who were models helped. Even at art school she’d carefully curated her public image, promoting talented classmates from less privileged backgrounds, painting herself as a supporter of oppressed minorities.
She reinvigorated that narrative as part of her nascent political career.
“I don’t think there’s any need to be inflammatory, Ms Hajiphillipou.”
“Doctor Hajiphillipou.”
Her PhD was one of the very few things in her life that had not been completely bought and paid for by family money. Of course, entrance to the programme at College Station was helped a little by a donation, but the academic work was all her own.
“Of course, I apologise.” They sent a female flack to meet with her, of course. Cavendish Energy (Terrestrial) were too savvy to create the impression of a trans-terrestrial megacorp bullying a parliamentarian by having a large man looming over her in a video clip.
“The accident rate at Cavendish Mining facilities is substantially lower than any other Belt Extraction Company, and of course the industry as a whole has industrial safety records that compare favourably to terrestrial heavy industry.”
Danae’s favourite dessert was baklava, squares of layered pastry, doused in honey, topped with a sprinkling of crushed pistachio and dried rose petals. This statement was, to her, much like one of those squares. Lies, dipped in misinformation, topped with tiny truisms and statistics for flavour.
“Of course, the Cavendish Family of Corporations prides itself on transparency,” Danae managed not to laugh in the PR flack’s face at this outright falsehood, “and we are always keen to engage with parliamentarians and elected officials to help them better understand the vital work we do. That is why I am here to invite you to review some proprietary safety measures we have in place.”
This was unexpected.
“But of course, you will need to turn off your recording devices.”
The flack turned her face into a simulacrum of regret. Danae recognised the falseness of the impression. It takes a liar to know one. Nevertheless she turned off her haptic devices and tucked her glasses into her Dior clutch.
They ushered Danae into a conference room. It was not the conference room which was used for photo opps, or which one struck a deal. It was a conference room in which junior functionaries might sit through tedious presentations from accountants or consultants.
There were three such individuals sitting in the bought-by-the-thousand replicas of Nordic design classics. The older one rose to greet her.
“Doctor Hajiphillipou, I’m Joanne Lay Then, Cavendish Mining. That will be all Judy, thank you.” Danae was ushered to a seat and the PR flack was dismissed. “These are my colleagues, Martha Ling and Bobby Nordstrom.”
“You have something to say to me, I am sure, Ms Then.”
“As Judy informed you, we at Cavendish Mining have invested heavily in technology to improve miner safety. Mr Nordstrom works for one of the subsidiary divisions who manage those investments: Cavendish Mining Analytics. His team capture and analyse data from millions upon millions of receivers. It gives us some fascinating insights. For example, did you know many accidents are caused by inappropriate use of machinery?”
On the screen a 3D render of a white suited miner kicking out in frustration plays. Vectors of shrapnel shearing off shoot across the screen, punching holes in unwary miners on other installations.
“Very interesting.” Her mouth was dry.
“Isn’t it?” Ms They had a predator’s smile. “As you said outside, working conditions in Cavendish facilities in the belt are at best dangerous, and at worst murderous. Now, to me that looks more like manslaughter than murder.”
“A 3D render? Manslaughter?” She tried to laugh it off, but it’s hard to fake jollity when all you can feel is fear.
“Well, I agree. Miss Ling works in our Communications and Analysis division.”
Danae heard her voice playing through the sound system.
“I’ve been having the nightmare again.”
“The accident?” The second voice was the soft, soothing voice of her therapist Dr. Hernandez.
“You wouldn’t...”
“We wouldn’t,” agreed Ms They, with an insincerity as profound as the Atlantic Ocean is deep. “After all, why would we smear our biggest advocate in Brussels?”
It wasn’t how she wanted to get elected.
This wasn’t how she pictured things going. Not at all.
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