Capítulo 2: Chapter 02: A Second Chance
Satan was extremely nervous, standing there in front of the office building. He checked his folder one more time, to be certain he had everything he needed. He did, just like when he checked it the past hundred times on the way over. Satan took a deep, calming breath, and straightened his tie. It was time to seize the moment.
Satan walked into the lobby, heading straight for the receptionist's desk straight ahead of him. She looked busy, and ignored him while he stood there awkwardly waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. While he waited, he took a look around.
The lobby was fairly large, taking up the front half of the first floor. He could see elevator doors in the wall behind the desk, but there were no buttons to call the car. He assumed the receptionist had those somewhere behind the desk. Thinking of the receptionist, he took a closer look at her. She was fairly pretty, with long black hair pulled into a serious bun behind her head. She was staring intently at something on her computer screen as she typed seriously. Satan looked away, out the glass front of the building, admiring the clouds for a time while he waited.
"May I help you?" The voice startled him out of his reverie, and Satan turned back to the receptionist, who was looking at him impatiently.
"Me?" He looked around. There was nobody else in the lobby. "Oh, sorry. Uh, I have an appointment at 3?" The receptionist quickly turned back to her computer, and started to type.
"Name?" She asked.
"Satan Darkstar." He said, still nervous.
She typed and paused. "You're here to see Mr. Bold?" She looked up at him, for the first time seeming off guard.
"Uh, yes!" Satan said, thinking quickly. He became much more nervous, realizing that he could be speaking to the CEO himself. Satan really hoped that Mr. Bold would buy the ship. The receptionist picked up her desk phone and press a button, though Satan couldn't see which one.
"Hello, Carrie? Yeah, he's here. Could you come down and show him to the room? Thank you." She hung up, and turned her eyes to his. Satan realized at that moment that she had very pretty eyes. Perhaps if today wasn't so important, he might be trying to get her number or something, but he was just too nervous about his meeting. "An assistant will be right with you. She'll show you to where you need to go." She stopped talking, but she was still holding eye contact. Satan felt like she wanted to say something else.
"Thank you... is there something else?" Satan asked, honestly wondering whether he should pull something stupid and try to flirt with her.
"Why are you here to see Mr. Bold?" She asked, and Satan could detect a hint of petulance in her voice. Satan decided right then that no matter what happened, he was not going to flirt with this one. He looked over his shoulder at the door, considering a break for it.
He'd seen a flash of that same personality he'd run into a thousand times over in the receptionist's eyes. The lust for power, the chasing, the psychosis that seemingly every girl like this had. He was not going to fall into that pit again. He looked back to the receptionist, who was giving him an annoyed look by now. Thankfully, before Satan was forced to say anything he might regret, the elevator dinged behind her.
The elevator doors opened and a portly woman stepped out holding a clipboard. She looked over her half-moon glasses at Satan and just waited there by the door, looking and waiting. Satan didn't need to be told twice. He quickly side-stepped the desk and made a break for the elevator. He fought to keep himself from running, not wanting it to seem like anything had happened, but damn he wanted out of there as quickly as possible!
He stepped inside the small, mirrored elevator and the woman stepped in beside him, tap tapping away at her clipboard. Satan leaned in a little bit, looking at the board. He could see now that it was no simple clipboard, but an ultra-thin tablet of some kind. Stars shone from his eyes as he admired this piece of technology, wondering what kind of cool gadgets and gizmos this little thing had packed into it. This was the office of one of the largest technology conglomerates in the world, after all!
Satan heard the woman clear her throat. He looked up sheepishly, realizing how close he was leaning. He retreated to his side of the elevator.
"Sorry, ma'am. I just have kind of a thing for technology." Satan said, really wishing he wasn't such an idiot. As he actually looked at his companion in the elevator, he could see she really was attractive too. He was starting to like this office. She had blonde hair falling straight around her shoulders, her red lipstick and half moon glasses really filling out the hot secretary look. His eyes drifted downward and he couldn't disagree with his earlier thought. Hot secretary indeed...
He suddenly realized she was looking at him very intently. His eyes snapped up to catch the glare she was shooting over her tablet. Damn. The elevator dinged again, the doors opening. She just turned and left, her ankle length skirt making a swishing sound as she walked down the hallway in which the elevator had opened. Satan rushed quickly to follow along, counting his blessings and promising repayment for his curses in his head as he hauled ass down the hallway to catch up.
She walked briskly, leading Satan through a maze of interconnecting corridors and doorways. Finally, she stopped in front of a nondescript door and turned around to face Satan.
"Look, I don't know what you have to show Mr. Bold but he has come a long way to see you, and I can see that you have never done this kind of thing before." She said, sounding kind of bitchy to Satan. He decided then that he didn't very much like this girl either. It seemed rather like his luck, Satan thought, to find two very attractive women with unattractive personalities in one day. Satan sighed, realizing a response was appropriate.
"Well, no ma'am I haven't-" He got cut off as she started speaking again. Satan just shut his mouth, reminding himself where exactly he was.
"Of course you haven't. Now whatever you have had better be worth his time. If it isn't, you'd better find a way to make his travel worthwhile, or I will personally cut you." As she finished, she leaned in, revealing a long and very sharp knife from the folds of her skirt. She put the point to the bottom of Satan's chin, and a wide grin spread across his face. Maybe he liked her after all! She didn't seem to like that, and dug the point into his skin, drawing a drop of blood.
Carrie, for her name was Carrie, watched this man who had come to see her boss. She had said he had traveled a long way, but the truth was they all had. Bold Industries had no office holdings in New Orleans, where Satan lived. When Mr. Bold caught wind of this invention from his sources in several other companies around the world, he used his considerable influence to have it rejected wherever it went, because he wanted it, and the mind behind it, for himself. So he bought up an abandoned office building and called his two most trusted associates to New Orleans. Carrie had been in Washington D.C. when the call had come, and had sat on a plane for many hours. She was not about to watch it all go to waste. As she looked into this boy's eyes, as she dug the knife a little deeper into his grinning head, she saw a change in him.
The boy she'd led down the maze of this place, the boy she'd rode the elevator with was gone, replaced by something dark and angry. She could practically feel the waves of dark rage flowing from him as he stared her down, a wide grin still spreading across his boyish features. He leaned a little further into her blade, drawing a thing stream of blood, flowing down his neck and sinking into his fine white dress shirt, staining it for good. He opened his mouth to speak, and in spite of everything she'd been through, everything she'd done for Mr. Bold (And that included quite a few bloody confrontations with potential rivals), she was scared. She hadn't felt this fear in many years...
A voice interrupted their confrontation, coming from behind the door. "Carrie, please. Show him in." The voice said. Her knife disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she took a moment to compose herself. When her attention returned to Satan, he was again the boy she had met downstairs. She opened the door and led him in, still a little shaken.
As Satan walked into the room, he could see that it was a conference room, with a large table and... He counted quickly in his head. Twenty three very comfy looking office chairs.
He looked up to see a man at the end of the table in a very expensive looking suit, complete with a handkerchief and a beautifully detailed vest underneath. He reclined in a chair, feet on the table. He looked fully relaxed, and as Satan looked through the room, he saw a bottle of some dark liquor on the table by the man's feet. He saw a sturdy glass cup on the table as well, which had a fancy looking gold filigree along the bottom rim. Satan could also see a large cigar drooping from the man's fingers as he held a filigreed cup of his own, with a few fingers of some dark liquor, maybe a whiskey, held within.
The woman from the hall stood to his right, looking studiously busy with her tablet. Satan closed the door softly behind him, clutching his folder tightly. He took a deep breath, and he centered himself.
He knew that the woman beside him was volatile, and he wasn't about to challenge that while this man was in the room. He was brought for a meeting with Mr. Bold, so this man was more than likely him. He would have to tread lightly.
"Good morning, sir. My name is Satan Darkstar, and I believe I'm here to sell you my ship." He said, smiling and trying to make it seem a little nervous. Mr. Bold, Satan hoped, looked him up and down. He took his feet off the table, and stood up slowly. Satan could see he was maybe half an inch taller than Satan, but it may have been his shoes. He seemed to be a very muscular man, but slim as well. He cut a striking figure coming down the table.
"Yes you are. My name is Mr. Bold, and I'm the CEO of the corporation you're selling to. I understand you made this design yourself?" He walked down the length of the table, extending his hand to shake as he came to the end. Satan nodded in response to Mr. Bold's question as he took the other man's hand. Satan shook his hand as firmly as he could, but his larger hand engulfed Satan's, and he could barely keep up to the other man's grip. Mr. Bold smiled as he shook Satan's hand, and when he released his grip, he stepped back, and extended his hand to the head of the table.
"The floor is yours. Take your time, despite what my dear Carrie may have told you, I'm in no rush." Mr. Bold said. Satan walked towards the front of the room as confidently as he could, still putting on an air of nervousness. It would be best if Mr. Bold underestimated Satan. Satan hoped he would be more likely to pay a higher price if he thought he had Satan under his thumb. He heard the woman, Carrie, saying something to Mr. Bold quietly behind him. Satan took the chance while his back was turned to the two to indulge himself in a smile.
He walked to the front, where a large projector screen sat facing the table. Satan could see a small laptop computer waiting and ready to project as well. He pulled out a small USB flash drive from his pocket, plugging it in to the computer. He navigated a moment or two, and got everything set up for his presentation. Satan could only hope it would be enough. He stood up and stood by the side of the projector screen, and looked down the table. Mr. Bold was sitting again in his seat, only a few chairs from the end where Satan was standing. The woman Carrie was still standing by the door. When Satan cast his eyes in her direction, she looked up and shot a venomous look over her tablet. Satan heard Mr. Bold clear his throat.
"You drink Scotch, Satan?" He asked, throwing his hand casually in the direction of the liquor.
"Ah, no thank you Mr. Bold, I-" Satan stopped as Mr. Bold was already pouring a glass.
"Call me Nicholas. Pardon for not listening, but it seems like you need a little something to start you off." Mr. Bold said as he slid the glass to the end of the table. Satan sighed, and took the glass. He sipped it for a moment, and then downed the glass. Better for his nervous image, Satan figured. Besides, it was good Scotch. Satan smiled at Mr. Bold.
"Thank you sir, now shall we begin?" He asked, looking at the other man as he set the glass back down onto the table. Mr. Bold nodded, steepling his fingers in front of his face.
Satan turned to the screen. "Now, I'm sure you're already aware of my vessel's purported function, and you may or may not be familiar with any of it's specifications. If you'll forgive any redundant information, I'll start from the top to ensure you have a full understanding of what exactly it is that you're purchasing here, Nicholas." Satan had to force himself to say Nicholas, his years aboard ship fighting to keep him unfamiliar with this man who was so obviously above his station. Nicholas Bold nodded, and Satan continued.
REVISE - "The IRV Coelecanth is a 200 foot vessel with a 1900 pound draw, crewed at full capacity with only five, and capable of running indefinitely within a twenty mile radius of recycling target." Satan paused for a second, looking at Mr. Bold. He seemed nigh unreadable. "Now, the true draw of this vessel is it's lack of upkeep. Most ocean going vessels require expensive and heavy fuel to run, however the Coelecanth can run with a full hold of recyclable trash for over ten hours before it requires refueling." Satan pressed a button on his little clicker and a simple schematic of the Coelecanth came up on screen. "Now what makes the Coelecanth so fuel efficient is it's source of fuel. It doesn't run on Gasoline, natural gas, or any other mainstream source. It runs off of the trash itself, using a stabilized plasmatic reaction within the core of the ship to power all of it's systems. When refueling is required, it simply draws in appropriate materials from the cargo hold and inserts them into the reactor, super-heating them into plasma and refreshing the reaction within." Satan paused, looking at Mr. Bold. "There are many more technical details," Satan had to force himself once again. "Nicholas, but that's the basic gist of it. Anything I can help to clarify so far?" Mr. Bold sat forward, leaning over the table on his elbows.
"Yes, there are a few things. How large is the hold?" Mr. Bold asked, staring intently at the schematic.
"At maximum safe capacity, the Coelecanth can hold up to two thousand pounds of bulk trash in it's hold, after compression and sorting. However, that number can be increased to nearly four thousand pounds if you ignore the reactor safe zone, which is a space around the reactor chamber itself which must be kept clear unless you want to run the risk of a fire aboard ship." Satan rattled off the specifications straight from memory. He knew he had a paper somewhere in his folder with all of the details, but Satan had rehearsed this very moment for so long, had spent so much of his life building this ship, that he knew every number, every function, by heart.
"Good. Now what's your projected profit margin? How much does this expensive toy cost, and how much am I making?" At this point, Mr. Bold sat back, watching Satan with guarded eyes. Satan took a deep breath and hit a button on his clicker, bringing up a numerical and graphical rundown of projected profit margins and upkeep costs. Satan knew that this was the moment. If Mr. Bold was going to buy the vessel or not, he would likely decide it here. Satan put on a big smile and started his pitch.
"The Coelecanth can run on around five hundred pounds of trash per day, which at current market prices for the materials used in fueling, comes out to around $235 dollars every twenty four hours. Mind you, Nicholas, the Coelecanth can run 24/7 as it is equipped with automated recycling. The Coelecanth can harvest up to 400,000 pounds of garbage every day, depending on how far it has to travel to offload." Satan pointed to a chart in the upper right corner showing average projected gathering rates for every five miles of distance needing to be traveled, from 5 miles all the way to 100. "Now, I'll cover ways to minimize that distance later, however right now, the important thing to note is that the Coelecanth can make up to- " Satan pressed a button, bringing up a large number in green text spreading across the screen. " -200,000 dollars per twenty four hour period, and that is apiece, sir." Satan paused here, gauging Mr. Bold's reaction. Mr. Bold simply nodded, and as Satan turned back to the screen to continue, he heard Mr. Bold stand. Satan turned back around, suddenly not having to fake being nervous.
"Well I think that will be quite enough for today, Satan." He finished his drink, setting the glass down on the table lightly and looking Satan in the eyes. There were several long moments of tension where Satan was sure he was going to be rejected... again. "I'll buy it. I want a fleet of ten ships, and I want five Bold Industries cargo freighters refitted to run on trash and attached for courier service. Pick your target and the home port, Carrie here will assist you in everything." He turned to walk out, then paused. "Oh, and find a crew." After that, he left Satan standing there, speechless. He looked from the door, to an angry looking Carrie, back to the door, and back to Carrie. He honestly wasn't sure what had just happened. Through all the confusion, there was just one issue burning on Satan's mind as he looked at Carrie.
"Ma'am, I already have a job." He said plaintively.
"Yes you do, Mr. Darkstar. You work for Bold Industries. Congratulations." She said, for the first time seeming to enjoy herself.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
Ashmedai2000
Ashmedai2000 Jesus, this one was rough for poor Satan. But the first hint of his sin? That's exciting for me! I wonder how many of you have caught the significance of their names?
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