Mr. Blackwell sat in his seat, tapping his Montblanc pen
against his temple. He always did this
when deep in thought. Running one of the
largest investment banks in the world was mentally taxing, but it did have its
perks.
"Mr. Blackwell, you have a visitor,"
he heard over the intercom.
"Ms. Smith, what is it? I thought there wasn't anything on the calendar for today."
"You may want to take this."
"Ok, let them in."
A pale figure came in and sat down at the chair in front of his desk. He was wearing a well-tailored, almost newish suit , and had a bald head with narrow-set eyes. He began to speak, at the same time putting on the desk a small statue of what looked like an old jade Mesoamerican deity. "I have come to assess how my investments are performing."
Mr. Blackwell started to redden. "Mr….”
"Ms. Smith, what is it? I thought there wasn't anything on the calendar for today."
"You may want to take this."
"Ok, let them in."
A pale figure came in and sat down at the chair in front of his desk. He was wearing a well-tailored, almost newish suit , and had a bald head with narrow-set eyes. He began to speak, at the same time putting on the desk a small statue of what looked like an old jade Mesoamerican deity. "I have come to assess how my investments are performing."
Mr. Blackwell started to redden. "Mr….”
“Q,” the visitor answered.
"I'm sure one of our associates can help with that." He tried not to sound too annoyed. One could never be sure who one was dealing with. He didn’t want billions of dollars to just walk out the door.
"I'm sorry but what I am talking of is not in any of your regular ledgers," Q added. “It may be held in your archeological accounts."
This got Blackwell’s full attention. Only the most powerful even knew about these very secret and very old accounts. He had been briefed on these ledgers by his predecessor, but thought it all a little hokey.
“I'll have to get hold of someone at the library in the artifacts division,” replied Blackwell, sending a note to Ms. Smith to get the right account.
"Thanks, I'm eager to see how we've done since the fund’s inception."
“When did you invest with us?"
“About the year 1500BC, by my reckoning," Q guessed.
"I'm sure one of our associates can help with that." He tried not to sound too annoyed. One could never be sure who one was dealing with. He didn’t want billions of dollars to just walk out the door.
"I'm sorry but what I am talking of is not in any of your regular ledgers," Q added. “It may be held in your archeological accounts."
This got Blackwell’s full attention. Only the most powerful even knew about these very secret and very old accounts. He had been briefed on these ledgers by his predecessor, but thought it all a little hokey.
“I'll have to get hold of someone at the library in the artifacts division,” replied Blackwell, sending a note to Ms. Smith to get the right account.
"Thanks, I'm eager to see how we've done since the fund’s inception."
“When did you invest with us?"
“About the year 1500BC, by my reckoning," Q guessed.
“Okay, okay, is this some kind of joke?” Blackwell wondered aloud.
“Why would I joke?”
At this, Q transformed into a reptile-like creature but with colorful feathers all over. He then transformed back into his more familiar form.
“Wow, that's a neat trick. Quite impressive.”
“Thanks, I got this metamorph device from a Cthulhu mercenary in a Dominion prison cell."
“I'm sorry―I don't understand. Where do you come from?"
“From your mythology, my name is Quetzalcoatl or the ‘feathered serpent’ as you undoubtedly noticed."
“Indeed, but where do you come from?"
“Where I come from doesn't matter. It is why I am here that matters."
“So, why are you really here?”
"Just as I said―checking my investments," he winked. “My employers don't give good retirement packages. I'm a freelancer mostly, a privateer at times, mercenary at others, nowadays with relative peace on my circuit, I’m more of a surveyor these days.”
“What are you surveying exactly?”
“Before I get into that―how've my investments done?”
“Right, it is coming up on my terminal now. It tells me I need the code on your artifact."
Q handed it over and Blackwell inspected the imprint. The code unlocked the file.
“It appears you've done quite well, my friend. Especially in the last 500 years. Some stock in the Dutch East India Company and some more recent investments in Standard Oil. Very nice nest egg you have here."
"Yes, last I checked―maybe a thousand years ago―it looked like another dry well. As you may appreciate, millennia-long investments present a fairly fat tail risk. In another system, all that was left was nuclear wasteland. I’ll be lucky to get a tenth back from that one."
“Yes, I imagine it is full of risk. But compound interest over thousands of years may make up the difference, given enough diversification."
Q replied "You're a quick one, aren't you? No wonder you are the leader of this world."
“I am not the leader of the world.”
Q grinned. "Haha, that's funny. No need for the false humility."
Blackwell blushed slightly. Being the head of the biggest investment bank, he supposed he could pull some strings. He changed the subject. "So what's with the human sacrifice thing?"
"I was being metaphorical. I didn't think they would take it literally. Though telling them I'd be back is a standard procedure."
Blackwell inquired,"Is that why the 'I will be back' prophecies are so prevalent in myth and legend?"
“Spot on, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Do you wish to make a withdrawal?"
“Not quite yet. But soon enough.”
"You're not telling me something. Isn't that true?"
"Yes, your system has been bought out by the Star Eaters. That is why I am here. To survey this system to value the goods.”
Blackwell questioned, “Bought out?”
“Why would I joke?”
At this, Q transformed into a reptile-like creature but with colorful feathers all over. He then transformed back into his more familiar form.
“Wow, that's a neat trick. Quite impressive.”
“Thanks, I got this metamorph device from a Cthulhu mercenary in a Dominion prison cell."
“I'm sorry―I don't understand. Where do you come from?"
“From your mythology, my name is Quetzalcoatl or the ‘feathered serpent’ as you undoubtedly noticed."
“Indeed, but where do you come from?"
“Where I come from doesn't matter. It is why I am here that matters."
“So, why are you really here?”
"Just as I said―checking my investments," he winked. “My employers don't give good retirement packages. I'm a freelancer mostly, a privateer at times, mercenary at others, nowadays with relative peace on my circuit, I’m more of a surveyor these days.”
“What are you surveying exactly?”
“Before I get into that―how've my investments done?”
“Right, it is coming up on my terminal now. It tells me I need the code on your artifact."
Q handed it over and Blackwell inspected the imprint. The code unlocked the file.
“It appears you've done quite well, my friend. Especially in the last 500 years. Some stock in the Dutch East India Company and some more recent investments in Standard Oil. Very nice nest egg you have here."
"Yes, last I checked―maybe a thousand years ago―it looked like another dry well. As you may appreciate, millennia-long investments present a fairly fat tail risk. In another system, all that was left was nuclear wasteland. I’ll be lucky to get a tenth back from that one."
“Yes, I imagine it is full of risk. But compound interest over thousands of years may make up the difference, given enough diversification."
Q replied "You're a quick one, aren't you? No wonder you are the leader of this world."
“I am not the leader of the world.”
Q grinned. "Haha, that's funny. No need for the false humility."
Blackwell blushed slightly. Being the head of the biggest investment bank, he supposed he could pull some strings. He changed the subject. "So what's with the human sacrifice thing?"
"I was being metaphorical. I didn't think they would take it literally. Though telling them I'd be back is a standard procedure."
Blackwell inquired,"Is that why the 'I will be back' prophecies are so prevalent in myth and legend?"
“Spot on, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Do you wish to make a withdrawal?"
“Not quite yet. But soon enough.”
"You're not telling me something. Isn't that true?"
"Yes, your system has been bought out by the Star Eaters. That is why I am here. To survey this system to value the goods.”
Blackwell questioned, “Bought out?”
“Why yes, another previous owner defaulted on
the Stellar-Backed Security they took out on this system.”
“Someone owns our sun?” Blackwell could not believe it.
“Well, actually that is being worked out in
court. Before the Star Eaters can have
clear title, the chain of custody for all the pieces of the SBS have to be
cleared up.”
Blackwell looked worried.
Q smiled “Don’t worry, it will take a few more
millennia.”
