One Billion Drops of Happiness

One Billion Drops of Happiness Read Free Page A

Book: One Billion Drops of Happiness Read Free
Author: Olivia Joy
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New America - but where had Zebediah gone?
    * * *
    Building 2506, Floor 41 – erstwhile home of Zebediah Voss - had indeed been left in a threadbare state, as discovered by Ernesta Wan, chief executive of the largest Suppressitor factory midtown. Upon arrival at the residence, she had called his name numerous times and then some more just in case he was hiding from her, before she realised that she was not five anymore, and that this was a serious situation.
    For a man of such advanced intellect, one who could feasibly fathom and manufacture such an invention as the Suppressitor, Zebediah Voss despised virtual communication. He had grumbled that his ideas could not translate over a telephone line, despite being able to see and hear the other person as a perfect three dimensional ethereal miniature. Therefore every week Ernesta Wan would zip over to his building, and with much help from her own Suppressitor, simpered and pandered to the inventor and his infuriating manner until he finally revealed precious nuggets of expertise. It was worth it if she could keep the company merrily afloat.
    Wan was a ruthless woman. Ninety years old and top of her game, she wore her hair parted severely down the midline as if her brain had been prised apart meticulously and sewn back together with a resultant scar. But the flaw with her company was that it was only Zebediah Voss who truly knew what he was talking about. Yes, they had employed scientists with the highest accolades, but practically speaking it was Zebediah who ran the show and she knew he probably suspected so.
    The factory computers powering the machines to produce Suppressitors were all fed by a complex program written by Voss. Some of the most lauded minds in the country had worked together to try to decipher this program but all had been left scratching their heads in bewilderment. Zebediah’s mind was truly a labyrinth in a field of its own.
    Hence a delicate balance had been struck. The company depended on Zebediah’s cooperation, and in turn he seemed to amuse himself tinkering with the devices. Suppressitors were by no means perfect yet; often the devices would adopt glitches, malfunction at any crucial moment or simply throw a wobbly that only Zebediah knew how to fix. He would receive news of any problems with a wry smile as if the granite slabs were small errant children.
    Voss was paid an extortionately large sum of money for his ideas, but curiously his living abode did not seem to contain a great deal. Wan’s intuition had suspected his enthusiasm had been waning in recent months and she had been tiptoeing extra gently around his every whim.
    But if he were truly gone, what would happen to the company, and more importantly, what would happen to the country when all the Suppressitors stopped working?
    * * *
    Henry Excelsior stood engrossed, quite literally with the world at his fingertips. Amongst the lavish interior of his 143 rd floor office, the bespoke Hercules Rodolfo soft furnishings slung insouciantly on chairs and sofas in fashionable shades of quartz, the centre-piece of the office was an enormous astral sphere.
    Made of the purest slabs of gold, this dome-like object hosted a live representation of the universe. Left to right, top to bottom as far as the eye could see, illusory planets suspended themselves in colours of brilliance. Stars swirled and glittered, and sometimes, if the right moment was caught, a death could be witnessed albeit in wispy slow motion.
    ‘Not today,’ barked Reginald Excelsior striding briskly into the office. ‘Zebediah is gone and we need to get ourselves in gear!’
    Henry calmly turned to face his father as if he had been expecting him. ‘Father, relax, have a click.’
    A cloud of distilled irritability crossed Reginald’s face as he fumbled around on his clavicle for the plain granite device. Click, click. The job was done. Reginald sighed.
    Biological fathers were unheard of these days seeing as life-synthesising

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