The last drama post I did about Kuma Miko seemed to have gotten some praise, but some wished to see a Hobby Drama post that had consequences outside “people got angry over it”. So without any further delay, here’s a story about a studio that’s close to my heart, one that I’ve backed twice and seen die twice.
Note: This is a fairly lengthy drama, so forgive me if I’m not able to provide all of my sources. Most of the front half of this comes from this video, which chronicles the first half of Lab Zero entirely in Russian.
From Ahad to Mike Z
Let’s start in the beginning. Alex Ahad is a freelance illustrator who, in between other work, had created character designs for a prospective fighting game. Mike Zaimont is a professional fighting game player best known for games like BlazBlue and Marvel Vs. Capcom, but since 1999 had been coding a custom engine in his free time, which he hoped could be used for a fighting game. The two met in 2008, and the two quickly realized that with each other’s help, their dream could come true. In 2010, the two joined the newly developed game studio Reverge Labs. Joining their team was Mariel “Kinuko” Cartwright, a friend of Ahad’s and daughter of a Disney animator who helped animate games such as Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and Shantae; Peter Bartholow, who acted as CEO of Reverge as well as their PR arm; and an assortment of other animators and designers. Their goal: a fighting game in the style of Marvel vs. Capcom 2 with hand-drawn animation that they called Skullgirls.
After obtaining publishers in Autumn Games and Konami (at the time of development the Microsoft required indie devs to have a retail publisher in order to bring their games to Xbox Live Arcade), the team got to work on Skullgirls. Initial impressions were favorful - people liked Ahad’s unique character designs, the fluid animation, and the solid engine Mike Z built - but upon release, there were some concerns. The time and money needed to develop each character meant a starting roster of only eight characters, a far cry from other fighting games (the original MvC had 15 characters in 1998), and due to the team trying to get the game out, there was no in-game move list. Some were also concerned that the cast, consisting entirely of women, was too fanservice-filled, although Bartholow said that the characters were just attractive women who could fight as opposed to characters using their sexuality in battle (Ahad said that sex wasn’t his main focus, he just wanted to have monster girls fight each other). The team at Reverge Labs stressed that they would continue to update the game, with plans to add DLC if the game sold well enough. Good thing nothing could go wro-
Everything goes wrong
Alongside publishing Skullgirls, Autumn Games and Konami had previously published a karaoke game called Def Jam RapStar. Unfortunately, around March 2012, the time Skullgirls released, both parties were at the end of several lawsuits made against them - one argued that Autumn and Konami did not get the rights to some of the songs used in the game, while another claimed that the game was funded with a bank loan which Autumn Games was unable to pay back. The result of these costly lawsuits was that Autumn was unable to pay Reverge the money made from Skullgirls - this led to the entire Reverge team being laid off around July, and the future of the game in the air.
And so, the team decided on a whim to reconvene as a new development studio, Lab Zero Games. At a fundraiser for breast cancer research which included a fighting game tournament, Mike Z revealed the first DLC fighter and promised that new information about her and the team would be posted soon. This would turn out to be an Indiegogo fundraising campaign that asked for $150,000 to develop the first DLC fighter, with more characters promised if people backed enough.
In the end, $829,829 was raised in the campaign, enough to fund five DLC characters, a bevy of stages and voice packs, and other features. It was quickly becoming a cult classic.
The Skullgirls Curse
And so work on Skullgirls DLC was underway. However, a variety of events happened to befall Lab Zero during development, some causing controversy and others just annoying the team. Some dubbed this “The Skullgirls Curse”. So let’s go over some of them:

• Paypal Woes: During the Indiegogo DLC campaign, Lab Zero announced that Ahad had created around 30 prospective designs for DLC characters, and that there would be a vote to see which characters would be the two “mystery characters” teased in the Indiegogo campaign. As you would guess, this caused the Skullgirls fanbase to get heated, to the point where some stressed that they would ask Indiegogo for their money back if their character didn’t win. PayPal, who managed the funds for this campaign, was concerned about these threats and put nearly all of the money on hold. Bartholow tried to negotiate with PayPal, and was eventually able to get the funding - once PayPal was given a hefty sum as collateral.
• Bad Juju - If you notice on the list of prospective DLC characters, one character is Juju, a character who was designed by Ahad from a fan’s suggestion on a Whiteboard Wednesday art stream. Ahad seemed to like the idea of the character, and kept building her up until she became a legit character in the game. The original fan made a joke on Facebook that he’d like to be compensated for the design, which led Lab Zero to negotiate obtaining the character rights from him. They eventually worked out a contract that would give them the rights to the character, but only if the original fan didn’t reveal it until Lab Zero announced it themselves. The fan then posted about it on the Skullgirls forum the very next day, breaking the NDA immediately and making it so that Lab Zero couldn’t use the character at all.
• Don’t be (Red) Cross with me: One of the characters included in the base game of Skullgirls is Valentine. As you can tell, the two biggest features of her character are her being a nurse and a ninja - as such, her costume is decorated with red crosses. This was upsetting to the real Red Cross, which fights hard to prevent its trademark from being associated with violence - as such, when they came to the Skullgirls publisher demanding a change, all red crosses in the game had to be changed to magenta.
• #FucKonami: In November 2013, due to Konami barely helping at all with the publishing process for Skullgirls (they refused to greenlight any patch or DLC until Lab Zero tested it itself on their own time and money, they didn’t help with Microsoft’s certification process for Xbox, etc), Lab Zero dissolved their publishing agreement. This led to a massive snafu where, due to the dissolution, the original Skullgirls was taken down on consoles, and Lab Zero had to scramble to get a new publisher on the consoles side and then reupload the game as Skullgirls: Encore. It was a tangled web of issues which the above YouTube video relays, but required certification from both console storefronts and even the Japan storefront, as their publisher there was also coincidentally being dissolved at the same time without Lab Zero knowing.
• EVO 2014: During one of the largest fighting game tournaments of 2014, Skullgirls was promised a space for airing their tournament stream by controller distributor Madcatz. Lab Zero and Autumn provided a pot for the tourney, and everything was smooth sailing - until a multitude of delays made it so that the entire time Skullgirls had for streaming was replaced with Tekken tournaments. By the time these issues were fixed, only the final four matches were able to be shown.
• What’s the worst kind of ship? Censor-SHIP!: In April 2015, one of the patches of Skullgirls altered the animation of some characters, which according to Lab Zero themselves was because of their own artistic values (while they admitted that panty shots in a fighting game comprised entirely of girls is unavoidable, they didn’t want to go out of their way to show them). As you might expect, this led to a massive onslaught of negative Steam reviews and caustic tweets from people who abhor censorship of any kind. Funnily enough, this brigade started around October, six months after the changes were made, and only via word of mouth - people didn’t even notice there was a change until someone told them about it.
• Backer characters: As part of their Indiegogo campaign, some of the highest-paying backers could have their original characters put in the background of some custom stages. Lab Zero warned these backers that these stages would be a casino and a ballroom, respectively, so their OCs should ideally be designed with a formal flair. Some backers did follow this unspoken rule - ZONE, a notoriously NSFW Flash animator who helped work on the DLC characters, made a perfectly formal look for his mascot Zone-tan. As for the others, well...
• SonicFox: This isn’t included in the compilation video mentioned above as this occurred way after all the initial Skullgirls drama. Basically, SonicFox is a five-time EVO champion and one of the best Skullgirls players in the world. In May 2020, after Skullgirls was mostly complete, they were given a cameo in Skullgirls’ training stage. Of note is that SonicFox is black, non-binary, and a furry, and the character added to the game was their fursona, who has a trans rights flag in the inside of their jacket you can only see for like one frame. People reacted as you would expect. Also, one of the original backers requested to change their character as they were now transitioning, which didn’t get as much flak, so that’s nice I guess.

So as you can see, Skullgirls had a menagerie of problems and issues during its dev time. However, their Skullgirls curse seemed to have faded away, as they had a new game in store.
If I was Indivisible
Indivisible was a new project of Lab Zero, announced in 2015 as Skullgirls DLC production was nearing an end. Billed as a platformer RPG similar to games like Valkyrie Profile, it would tell the story of Ajna, a young girl whose town is stricken by tragedy and she finds out that she’s a portion of the god of creation, who has grown discontent with the world and wishes to remake it anew. Its Indiegogo campaign focused on Incarnations, party members who came from a variety of cultures, religions, and demographics not usually represented in popular culture. And as you can see by the fact that it got over two million dollars in funding, people were excited to see what Lab Zero could do. They even got enough funding to get Studio Trigger, of anime fame, to create the opening for the game.
Of course, it wouldn’t be Lab Zero without the occasional issue here and there. As shown above, some Incarnations were changed or scrapped during development, which irked some who backed because of that character specifically (not naming any names, but look in the incarnation list and see if you notice any). Backer characters were included again, and although there were more places to add them so they didn’t look out of place, you still had the occasional few that did. Critics liked the art and presentation of the game, but disliked some gameplay issues: the second half of the game became a cakewalk once you progressed far enough, it was a bit of a pain to go from one end of the map to another, especially for side quests, and a bunch of party members simply weren’t complete. Most egregiously of all, the Nintendo Switch version of the game was ported by a different company and released before Lab Zero was even aware of it - which forced them to scramble again to patch it up so it was on par with other consoles.
Still, it was a better situation they were in than when Skullgirls started. They had a legit publisher in 505 Games, people were satisfied with the base game, and Mike Z mentioned how the base game would continue to be refined with gameplay changes, small additions, and guest incarnations from other indie games. NBC even announced that Indivisible would be adapted into a television program for their Peacock streaming service. Things were looking up for Lab Zero.
Everything goes wrong... AGAIN
During the production of Indivisible, Alex Ahad was let go by Lab Zero. Not much is mentioned about it except that he was growing increasingly hostile, making it difficult to work with him, and his art was not meeting the standards for the game. He left, tried to sue Lab Zero, and eventually agreed to a sizable settlement. Mariel became the lead artistic director in his stead, and the art team had to be rearranged to compensate.
Now, as Lab Zero was preparing to transition from being employee-owned, Mike Z was made the temporary head of the studio. In June of 2020, Mike Z did an “I can’t breathe” joke during a Skullgirls livestream just days after George Floyd’s death - he later apologized for this, claiming he was trying to bring attention to the issue. Soon, more people provided proof that Mike Z has had a history of sexual harassment. Kinuko chimes in as well, noting that while she tolerated inappropriate behavior for years, when she talked to Mike Z about it, he blamed her for his actions. She talked with others in the team, who came to the conclusion that Zaimont had treated all of them like this. Some Lab Zero employees resigned on their own, while others pushed for Zaimont to resign. However, as Mike was still head of the studio, he dissolved the studio board and laid off the rest of the staff.
So where does that leave everyone?

• Ahad is still doing art on his own, and gets by with commissions and his Patreon.
• Kinuko, as well as the majority of Lab Zero, created a new studio called Future Club, which has promised to create new titles with the same art style they refined from Skullgirls and Indivisible.
• Autumn Games still own the rights to Skullgirls, and with the help of some former Lab Zero devs, created a mobile version of the game. It’s surprisingly not bad, although it’s of course stuffed with microtransactions. However, they’ve apparently made enough to fund a completely new character for the game for both the mobile and console/PC versions.
• After everything with Mike Z, 505 games put out a statement which signaled the end of all development of the game, leaving it unfinished. Mike Z has been suspended from Skullgirls streams and the like, making his future in the gaming world unclear.

There’s probably something I’ve missed in all of this, but yep. I backed them twice, both for Skullgirls and Indivisible. I don’t regret it, and I’m looking forward to whatever Future Club does, but I won’t lie - I’ll always miss what could have been.

RoyalRoad
First
Next
Jen and Sarah spent the next week doing research. The Internet was filled with contradictory information about monetary theory and economics, and neither of them really had the background to evaluate the arguments that everyone was having.
However, Sarah reminded them both, they didn't need to look at a perfect system, just one that worked. So, they started digging through Wikipedia articles and online textbooks on the history of money and how they came to be.
"Hey, did you know they used to use salt as currency?" Sarah asked as she skimmed through a particularly fascinating documentary about Middle Age East African economies.
"Is this some kind of joke about mining salt?"
"No, it's real, look. And apparently the word salary is from the Latin word salarium for money used to buy salt," Sarah continued fascinated.
Of course, they couldn't use something as simple as salt to represent money. In fact, they couldn't use any commodity either.
Over the last week, one of the alien traders caught wind that gold was extremely valuable on Earth, so they'd brought them in by the ton load. Gold was still useful for electronics and some dentistry, but the price of gold, mostly propped up by its value in rarity, crashed hard.
The problem with currency in galactic trading, as Sarah discovered, was that there wasn't a single commodity that was equally rare in every system.
No, whatever alternative they come up to the laughably outdated barter system had to be built on something far more rare and valuable than gold.
Something that even the most powerful human empires in history have struggled to collect.
It had to be built on trust.
"That's the system most modern currencies are based on," Sarah claimed, "you only accept dollars for work because you trust that you're going to be able to wake up tomorrow and spend it on… everything you need."
"Hmm well, we can't just ask them to take US dollars," Jen giggled. This would be so much easier if that weren't true.
"Why not?" Sarah asked, playing the devil's advocate.
"Well… well, like you said, they won't trust it! I certainly wouldn't if I were a trader! Furthermore, who knows? Maybe they have a printer in their ship that can duplicate money! Maybe we should ask them for that next time we bring Zarko some pears," Jen said, thinking out loud.
"I doubt it. The government keeps a lot of secrets about how they make Dollars , and I don't want the Secret Service knocking on my door," Sarah said. Until this week, she hadn't known that this was one of the lesser known duties of the USSS. Now that she knew it, it made the thought of attracting their attention even less palatable, "you're right. What about digital casino tokens? We can produce something that translates to Dollars and have our own system that tracks it all."
"Sure, that's not too hard to make. We would have a centralized money supply, where we don't trust each end point…" Jen continued on the brainstorm, thinking in terms of the technical system, "ok, so say we make SarahBucks, and peg its value to the US Dollar. One pound of pears would be worth 1.5 SarahBucks, one pound of sirloin steak is 6.99 SarahBucks at Safeway. That still doesn't explain how we'll get people to use it."
"I'm not sure. I need to think about this more," Sarah yawned, tired. "And I hate that name."
They agreed that they were stuck, and that SarahBucks was absolutely a terrible name.
Livermore Spaceport, Earth
A month after the spaceport opening, Sarah noticed that it had become less of a tourist attraction. There were far fewer people standing around gawking at the aliens, and a lot more companies trucking their best-selling products into the spaceport for trade.
After their abuse of Jen's cousin's employee pass got discovered by the spaceport authorities, Sarah and Jen had started placing their own bids on getting into the spaceport through the official channels. Thanks to their existing connections with the managers at the spaceport and a growing bank account of value, they could still get in to continue their lucrative trade for magical alien goods.
A bit of a rich-get-richer type of situation.
The flavor of the month were these Bohor magical air filter machines that aggressively scrubbed the air of… anything you want them to.
The Bohor planet is basically the planetary equivalent of a toxic dump.
Sure, it had biomes; it wasn't a Star Wars sci-fi planet where the entire planet is either a desert or an ice-cold tundra or a forest. But the entire planet had been polluted so heavily by its occupants that it lowered the life expectancy by half before the Bohors found a solution:
They simply filtered their entire atmosphere through air filter machines and then buried the toxins and garbage they got out of it in a very deep landfill, somewhere where very few people lived. Pretty much the kind of solution you'd expect out of a species that created the original problem in the first place.
Zikzik, the alien that was the same species as Zarko, overheard a human asking about their rocket fuel and climate change, and brought in a cargo hold of them.
It was a massive hit.
Earth's climate change problem wasn't nearly as bad as Bohor, but it was relatively simple to program these machines to suck carbon out of its atmosphere and… bury them in a landfill.
At first, few of the human traders bought them, thinking that it was going to be at least a while before the problem became big enough that big governments were going to come to them to try to address the issue, but they had it all wrong.
Soon as word got out this was an option, big companies and philanthropists started lining up at their doors. As it turned out, literally sucking the carbon dioxide out of the air was easier and cheaper than modifying many of their industrial practices to actually be environmentally green. They didn't need to run more efficient factories to claim to be carbon-neutral; just pump as much carbon into the air in exchange for undoing that by sucking it out of the atmosphere after!
Some bean counters at a think tank in DC predicted that a few more shipments of these air filters will fix Earth's climate problems by themselves in about a decade, so every trader had a waiting list of corporations with PR problems willing to buy them.
Sarah and Jen had a couple vehicle manufacturing companies on their list who were trying to get Bohor air filters to use in lobbying for looser emission standards for their dirty gasoline cars.
Today, there were traders on all the landing pads, and they were all carrying air filters. Zarko's ship was there, and he was loading fruits into his spaceship with an alien looking forklift. Sarah and Jen approached his ship and noticed the truck driver standing there.
"Hey Benny, tempting the poor aliens with cherries this time?" Sarah waved good, grinning and looking at his cargo.
Technically, Benny is a competitor, or at least he drives for a competitor. The massive fruit conglomeration he worked for, Chuckita, had not neglected to notice the massive business opportunity sitting right here as many others have, and are now delivering straight to the aliens in exchange for massive profit margins.
But Benny was a good guy. One time Jen and Sarah were having some trouble finding a buyer for a bunch of legally dubious alien psychedelics. Benny was in his late 50s, not that great with the Internet either, so he'd introduced them to whom he referred to as "my money launderer". Aka, his 22-year-old son, Benny Jr, who had a habit of buying weed and other less than legal items off the deep web. Benny Jr had found a buyer for them within minutes and even generously offered to handle the deal for them to spare them the risk of meeting some psycho hopped up on an alien high in a dark alley somewhere.
"Heh! One of the bat aliens loves sweets but has a low tolerance for sour, so they treat cherries as some kind of an odd challenge fad. They eat a random cherry, and it's either so incredibly sweet they start drooling out of the mouths, or it's a sour one, and they freak out," Benny replied, in a low voice as if he were trying to keep it a big secret. "Zarko showed me a video, and it's the most hilarious thing I've ever seen".
"I think I've seen that one, have you seen the one where they drink wine?" Sarah chuckled at the memory. Alien videos have been a big hit on YouTube. Some human merchants were trading fruit for aliens to take videos of the galaxy. Which they monetized, of course.
"No," Benny's ears perked up. Chuckita doesn't make wine, but if selling wine to aliens was going to be a thing, they were a big supplier of grapes… "Is it gonna be a thing?"
"Well guess what we brought today?" Jen also grinning from ear to ear, and holding up a big carton of low-quality box wine.
"Awww seems like I'm always one step behind you guys," Benny moaned in exaggeration, "I tried to get my money launderer to tell me what aliens would want but all he does is play video games on the Internet, kids these days."
Luckily, Zarko chose this moment to step out to spare them from more good-humored ribbing from the boomer. "Ah Sarah and Jen, you brought the grape wine this time!"
"Yup," Sarah beamed, "and I see you've run out of air filters to trade again!"
"Sadly yes," Zarko tilted his head in shame, "my ship is overdue for a cargo space upgrade, but I haven't found a port that would do it for fruit yet. Next time?"
"Alright! Alright! We'll leave our special wine with you, but you better get us some extra good filters next time!" Jen scolded mockingly. Zarko has gotten a lot more comfortable doling out IOUs since the first time.
"Of course. Only the best for you two," Zarko said with a greasy human smile imitation that almost made Sarah laugh out loud. It reminded her of a ridiculous cartoon sloth.
"By the way," Sarah asked casually, "how much is a spaceship worth on your planet?"
Zarko sobered up his expression and looked at her curiously. It was a question that other humans had asked before. To him, it was a good sign. This meant that they all dreamt of the stars. But he didn't expect such a question from someone as seemingly practical as Sarah. She had a lot of fruit, sure, but fruit doesn't build spaceships.
After thinking for a while, he replied honestly, "ships aren't traded for one single item. My family traded for the parts to build mine for generations."
He pointed at his spaceship.
Zarko proudly explained, "this is the work of eighteen generations of trading. My family was one of the richest on Zeep-zep. For thirteen generations, they traded for each of the parts on this beauty. Then, for the last five, my ancestors traded excess food from the tenant farmers on their land to expert craftsbeings that could put it together."
"Wait, eighteen generations?" Jen gasped. Eighteen generations ago, her family were probably peasants on a farm in Korea or something…
"Yes," Zarko said, looking at them with a little of pity. "After getting the spaceship, my family has traded in it for twelve generations, through civil wars and disasters."
He did some math on his hands, and said, "that's about four hundred of your years. That's why it's very unlikely that you will never go to space."
Looking at the stunned expression on their faces, he tried to lighten the mood. Zarko said mischievously, "unless you're willing to part with some more of your fruit, in which case I'll let you sit in the back seat for a whole route!"
"Hold on, back up, I'm still stuck on the multiple generations part," Sarah said seriously. "You're saying you're flying on a spaceship that started to be built thirty generations ago? That's… about a millennia for us."
"Yes," Zarko answered, "and that's why only thirteen families on my planet have had the privilege of owning one in our long history. No offense, but that's why I think no human will ever own their own spacecraft for at least fifteen more generations."
Something is wrong here, Sarah thought. The budget for NASA's FTL spacecraft was in the hundreds of millions. Yes, for a fruit farmer, that would be many generations of work if all their descendants worked in the same industry. But there were over three thousand billionaires on Earth, not including the tens of thousands of corporations that had assets or market value over a billion. And the prices for the spacecraft would surely go down as time went on…
For a planet like Zarko's to only have thirteen spaceships over generations of their development…
As they were walking away, Benny asked, "have you guys noticed something weird about the way these aliens do business?"
"Yes." "God yes." They said in unison.
"We've been thinking about it for a while, but these guys not having money is a major problemo," Sarah said, looking around surreptitiously, "Zarko and Zikzik keep talking about not being able to find someone who can upgrade their hulls for fruit. And sometimes they come with nothing good, and we're supposed to just drive our fruits all the way back!"
"And if you think about it, if they were human ships, think about truckers who don't own their trucks. We'd have loans or something to deal with the cargo space problems, and they'd be paid for by profits in a few trips," Jen added.
"The numbers he gave us for spacecraft ownership seem insane," Sarah agreed. "Your company could probably afford to order one right now, not to mention hundreds of others. They must all be dirt poor!"
Benny seemed relieved that he wasn't the only one who was thinking this, "exactly! I'm thinking we just introduce them to the concept of Benjamins and solve all their problems and ours. Would certainly make the return trip a lot easier for me if I didn't have to drive all the way to Berkeley for junior to launder all this crap!"
"We thought of that too," Sarah said as Benny pretended to groan again, "but we couldn't figure out how to get them to take money with no intrinsic value."
"Oh that shouldn't be too hard," Benny said, who's clearly already thought through this problem in his head, "we play a little game called good cop, bad cop."
"Good cop bad cop?"
"Sure, it's a mind game the cops play, where they put you in a room-"
"Yeah we know what it is, but how does that help us?" Sarah said impatiently, an idea tugging on her subconscious.
"Well you see," Benny clearly smugly enjoying this moment where he's thought of something that the duo did not, "you two come with an empty truck next time, and you tell Zarko that you'll give him a wad of clean crisp cash, fresh from the bank, for some of his air filters. And when he asks you why he'd take the cash, you just tell him that he can give it to me in exchange for some of my fruits."
"What does that have anything to do with good cop bad cop?!" Jen asked.
"That has nothing to do with good cop bad cop," Sarah chimed in, but the idea was beginning to form in her head, "but it's a good start. We don't want to deal in cash. It's too risky. It could get the feds onto us and there's a bunch of laws around it that I'm not sure about."
"But what we can do is have an internal money system for traders pegged to the US Dollar!" Jen completed.
"Yup, so when Zarko comes back next time, we tell him he has an account with the Bank of Benny, we give him a fancy looking card that has his bank account number and give him a pin code, and we deposit a certain amount of BennyBucks into his account for giving us air filters. Then when you come around, Zarko gives you his card and pin, and gives you BennyBucks for your fruit," Sarah finished.
"Aha. And then I come to you two, say, I would like to convert BennyBucks in my Bank of Benny account to good old American dollars," Benny extrapolated, completing that final step.
"Yeah! We'll just wire you the money and everyone gets theirs," Sarah exclaimed, happy they've finally thought through the loop and gotten someone on board.
"BennyBucks is a terrible name though," Jen said, calming everyone down a little, "and why are we getting so excited over the basic concept of currency? And why haven't aliens figured this out? Maybe it's against some kind of space trading code."
"Who knows? Maybe we just try it on Zarko and see if it works out," Benny said, a glint in his eyes, "and then we expand, galaxy-tically."
"Galactic credits!" Sarah exclaimed, "that's what we'll call it."
They agreed that it was the least worst name that they'd come up with so far. It was boring, but when it came to finances, maybe boring and cliché was a good choice after all.
"Explain again. I am trying to understand," Zarko said two days later as he offloads the air filters he'd promised.
"C'mon dude, for the fifth time," Sarah exasperated, "it's not that hard. We give you a bank account card and have you set up a secret number…"
Jen had spent the last two days coding up a storm. Technically, a simple debit system wasn't that hard, but she had to make a website interface that Benny could go up to and enter his account, Zarko's card information and amount, then let Zarko type in his code…etc. She'd mused that it would have been easier to just do this all in a cloud-based spreadsheet, but that wouldn't scale up if they had more customers.
Sarah had the account cards laminated and designed a logo: the letters GC, for Galactic Credit, and a stylized version of a Milky Way in the background. Part of the value in a trustworthy system is to look official, and you can't get much more official than laminated cards.
"Yes, I understand that part," Zarko said, clearly displaying his frustration on his facial expression as well, "but I don't understand why Benny would give me his fruit for just entering a number."
"Because we have an agreement with him that he'll take it in exchange for fruit!" Sarah was sure this was the umpteenth time she had to explain this, but clearly Zarko was not getting it.
"Is it similar to a debt?" Zarko said suspiciously, as if debt was this dark magic that the humans were performing on him, "I have never heard of this kind of debt before."
"Yes, it's a debt, of sorts," Jen cut in. The last time he had asked this exact question, they'd said no, and that led to fifty other questions and explanations that went nowhere, so nothing could go worse if they said yes-
"Ok. I don't understand," Zarko did his sloth version of a sigh, it was cute, but at the same time frustrating for Sarah and Jen, "But I can try it. I know you two are not trying to trick me. Do I get my fruits before I take off?"
"Yes! You go to Benny-" Sarah started.
"Yes! And that's it. Benny gives you his fruit," Jen cut her off, knowing that this was about to launch into yet another long, long line of questions they just can't deal with right now.
Sarah set up a new account for Zarko, asked him for a 6 digit base ten pin code (thank god Zarko was a ten digit species) which he promptly memorized, and hoping that Jen's prototype website wouldn't fail, showed him how they were "giving" Zarko 40,000 Galactic Credits for 8 Bohor air filter machines into his account ("No, you can't have my iPad. It's on your account card now. Show this to Benny later.")
"Well that worked out great," Benny said as he watched them wire him the $25,000 for his truck shipment of fruit. Though his costs were in the low thousands, he could have easily fleeced Zarko for his full 40k. But they all agreed that wasn't the point, which was to get Zarko to see the benefits of using a currency system abstracted from goods and services.
"Dude, you weren't there," Sarah complained, "I don't understand why he had such a hard time understanding money. Money equals goods. Bing bang boom. It's like these guys don't have the capability for abstract thinking."
"No they definitely do. You can't build spaceships without abstract math and science," Jen said, "but he clearly had a deathly aversion to using money. I think it's tied to some taboo to debt somehow. All the other species must have it because none of the aliens we've met have even mentioned anything close to a real economy."
"Whatever it is," Benny sighed happily, "I'm just happy I didn't have to go home with my truck full of weird alien toys."
"Yup. The next step is to get all the human traders to take credits. At least they'll have no problems understanding the benefits."
Sarah made some calls to the trader licensing office at the spaceport. There she found a manager willing to part with phone numbers and contact information for the other human traders, for an "information fee" of course, and started making calls to the other human traders.
It wasn't easy. Some traders were representatives of bigger food companies, and didn't have all the flexibility to make these kinds of decisions. And others no doubt were thinking of copying their system for their own profit. But they all saw the benefits of a unified network of currency debiting because they've been suffering the same problems that Sarah, Jen, and Benny had been.
Over the next few days, all the human traders agreed to take galactic credit from the aliens, which they knew they could exchange for cash with Sarah and Jen.
"We are officially in business."
In economics, there's a distinction made between different kinds of money. There's commodity money, usually gold or silver. There's representative money, which is currency backed by commodities like gold or silver. And then there's fiat money, which is not backed by any intrinsic value, but rather by government decree, hence fiat.
Galactic Credits fall into some kind of weird hybrid category between representative and fiat money. They're backed by the Dollar, which is fiat money, but also which makes them representative money. This means that the people issuing them, in this case Jen and Sarah, are not supposed to create them without also having a corresponding US Dollar in their bank account.
Of course, Sarah and Jen hadn't signed an ironclad contract with the other human traders that they're always guaranteed to take their galactic credits and exchange for money, so technically that meant that one day Sarah could simply "deposit" a large number of credits in her account and buy all the goods she wanted from Zarko, or potentially the other traders.
That would, however, be slaughtering the golden goose for the meat.
After all, they didn't want to sell fruit or Bohor air filters.
They wanted to sell the concept of money.
"Why would I take this over fruit?" Zikzik sniffed. He was known as a sharp one by all the human traders. If there's any new alien fad coming down the pipeline, chances are Zikzik is the first one to touchdown with a cargo hold full of it.
Unlike many of the other traders, he was fairly consistent in his dealings. This much fruit is for this much air filters. He knows his price, and he lets you know it too. Everyone suspected he kept careful records of all his selling and buying somewhere in his ship, but he's never brought them out. Maybe he just had a sharp memory.
"It's very consistent," Sarah insisted, trying to appeal to his affinity for a stable and predictable exchange, "one pound of fruit today is the same as one pound of fruit tomorrow, and you can deal in fractions."
Completely ignoring that most fruits are seasonal, and price changes, and inflation, she thought, let's start here.
"Fractions, you say?" Zikzik seemed thoughtful, or maybe he's just scratching an itch on his snout, Sarah could never tell with these aliens.
"Yes, fractions," said Jen detecting the slightest bit of opening, "you can trade your air filters for credit. Then you can trade maybe three quarters of your credits to fill your cargo with fruit. The next time you come down here to Earth, you would only need to bring half the amount of air filters as the first trip, combined with the credits you have left, you can leave with a full cargo load anyway!"
Is that how that math goes, Sarah thought, but didn't cut in, as Zikzik seems to be nodding, an oddly universal gesture for affirmation.
"Five eighths of the credits," Zikzik argued, "The air filters are harder to get now because the Bohor are running low, and they need time to make more."
Bargaining! There we go! That's what we're talking about! Sarah almost pumped her fists in the air and gave him a high five, not a great idea given how sharp his claws are as she found out when trying to shake his hands a couple of weeks ago.
"Ok, you would still have to negotiate that amount with each human trader," Sarah replied adding, "but they all deal in Galactic Credits."
They signed him up for an account, gave him a card, and set up his pin code. It had only taken half an hour to get Zikzik on board, which was significantly faster than the hours they'd taken to explain this to Zarko, despite them being the same species. Was it xenocist that she'd assume it was going to take just as long, Sarah wondered.
Looking at the line of traders, she sighed. This was going to be a long day.
Luckily, Zikzik accepting the credits made for great advertising. He was known for being a sharp trader, so if he doesn't think it's a scam, it must not be, right?
Sarah and Jen managed to get two other traders that day onto credits, and one more who was dipping his proverbial toes into the water.
It was a good day.
Jen had been working hard. The Galactic Credits website was now on its 16th major iteration. She'd beefed up the security on it, to make sure none of the other human traders got any funny ideas. Backups became more automatic and frequent, and there was now a rollback and dispute mechanism, not that it was being used yet.
Sarah had also been working hard. She'd been sitting in meetings all day with legal, finances, and now they had a small army of people who were ready to help out if they got into trouble there. Galactic Credits is now officially a tax paying LLC incorporated in the great state of Delaware.
Benny Jr, who had just finished college, had come in as well. He was no good at talking to clients, but he's what the duo would refer to as "street smart". Occasionally, the alien traders would bring in some exotic or ahem, dubiously sourced items, and he would know exactly where to convert that into cold hard cash. On the spreadsheets, his dealings were adding up to a nice fat padding on the margins for Galactic Credits, which to this point, hasn't been making any money other than in the fruit and air filters exchange business.
They were now working out of a rented office in downtown Livermore, with a very nice view of a brick-lined pub that offers numerous craft beers and the old railroad that runs through the heart of town.
Ironically, there's a Bank of America branch across the street, not far from the office itself, the company that had invented the BankAmericard and started the credit card revolution, seemingly oblivious to this new competitor moving into town, literally and figuratively.
They had many brilliant finance experts who were working on something, surely, but established financial institutions are not always great at moving fast and adapting to changing technology. There were many regulations to worry about, and the stakes were a lot higher.
There's something very quaint about the town itself. Some people didn't consider it part of the Bay Area metro area itself, but with the latest BART expansion station they recently built, that's been less and less true.
Now, it was literally the town where the train tracks ended. And where the final frontier began.
For the people in the office, it's also where they dreamt about a new financial revolution in the galaxy.
Some people have critiqued this chapter on the grounds that established financial institutions would have thought of this idea on day one. I appreciate the feedback, but that is a rosy view of the velocity at corporations in my opinion. I've personally worked in some of these companies, and if someone brought up this idea, it would probably have taken at least a month to get the idea through various risk audits and legal reviews.
In terms of technology, much of banking still operates on software that predates the modern Internet. This is one of the reasons why fin-tech startups have been able to beat them on time-to-market, despite massive institutional or financial disadvantages. It's why companies like PayPal, Square, Stripe, Venmo… etc could compete with the incumbents with the development of the Internet.
Sure, an intern in engineering or tools would have a semi-working prototype by week three, but the first line of code would be pushed to production by… month three. A much more likely scenario: some startup beats them to the punch, exactly as it happens here, and the large company offers their founders or investors an obscene amount of money to buy them out.
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Previous chapter (RETRO COSMOS)
​ #2 - THE TWISTED HEIST ​
A star had just gone out in the distance, sending its entire system, planets and moons, into oblivion. So, what was a simple life compared to a sun? Did the human existence that earthlings highly cherished in the past deserve so much fuss?
I would say no, of course, because I’m a cat. Our condition to us felines will never have to pale in front of a shiny astronomical object. Mine specifically, don’t you think?
Oswald Avery was merely a Homo sapiens. A retired buccaneer, fermenting his adulterated wine on the carcass of a drifting supercargo; all under the remodeled features of a former Galactic Trade Company’s pilot. Alas, regardless of the genetic disguise, the FID rarely lied. It hadn’t fooled us and the masks had fallen off. Just like him.
I’m such a poet.
Anyway… Avery had had a long life of crimes and adventures. He was full of energy in his youth. And as in the universe, nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed, this energy was reincarnated in a nice amount in our bank account once the old picaroon flatlined.
“We finally got it! And it was a traditional Martian contract. Payable remotely, on condition that the FID is validated. How about that?”
“God… Lee … you’re talking to yourself and it’s only 8 a.m.,” Ali grunted behind me.
My couch potato of an associate had her head still stuck in the cereal box she was nibbling before falling asleep binge-watching Captain Caveman on ABC.
“To begin with, it’s 8 p.m., Martian Time. And we do have a positive balance in our bank account for the first time in months! Do you know what that means, partner?”
“Shopping, bitches!” she shouted as she hurled herself into the void, gliding to the bathroom in the weightlessness.
With the cardboard box on the top of her head, this sugar bishop was swimming after the remnant cereals that floated on her path like Ms. Pac-Man.
“Hell! Have I just opened Pandora’s box?”
The liner Danaë and its forty-eight post-nuclear Baltimore-XVIII heavy reactors made its annual cruise from Lunapolis to the suburbs of Ceres, in the belt. Its figurehead with the effigy of the Greek princess was a two hundred meters long, green ceramic statue. The size of the ship exceeded some inhabited asteroids’ diameter so it possessed its own substantial gravitational field.
“It’s quite a symbol of the decline of humanity,” I said to Ali, pointing with my chin at this unique work of art.
“Why?” my partner asked without caring whatsoever. “Spill the beans, Plato.”
The Kitty had obtained permission to dock and began its approach. I concluded then:
“Humanity no longer erects great and beautiful things without turning them into a shopping mall.”
The gold and ivory Danaë was one of the most luxurious epicenters of human decadence in the system; comprising hotels, casinos, megastores and amusement parks spread over a dozen centrifugal rings. There was something for everyone’s wallet, ready to be emptied, whether one was welcomed at the port or had joined during the crossing.
And to my great regret, the cape of the Danaë was just passing by us that week.
“I believe we should keep our savings for the maintenance of the Swallow. The dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. Some parts need to be changed…”
“You’re such a bore with your adult talks,” my partner said as she left the fitting room of a luxury chain overlooking the main deck. “What do you think of that? Sexy as fuck, right?”
Her camisole didn’t hide a single inch square of flesh and I subtly pointed it out to her:
“It’s a bit of a back-alley Sally.”
I took a blow on the nose which, this time, was amply justified.
“There’s nothing chicer than Borderline. You don’t know anything about fashion. It’s crazy!”
She was furious. It was entertaining. But she was right. The human female fads were way over my head and I wasn’t a good adviser. Mostly because I didn’t care. At all.
Fortunately, the upscale shopping mall where we were staying had provided us with a free assistant who was even more servile than a decerebrate canine. As usual, the robot carrier that accompanied us did the job by flattering her with its unbearable honeyed tone:
“I find you charming, Madame. Here we have the latest fashionable lingerie on Mars. It’s an ephemeral collection that appears to have been specially made to mold your discreet curves, which seem to have been sculpted by the seraphim.”
Ali gave me a satisfied look that I pretended to ignore. Then she backtracked into the fitting room to put her black suit and pink jacket back on.
I took the opportunity to climb on the shoulders of this silly robot, servant of our servants and last link in this hierarchy whose origins go back to Ancient Egypt.
“One more move like this and I’ll turn you into a gum dispenser.”
The automaton apologized before my partner’s head emerged from behind the silk curtains which were far too fragrant for my taste.
“I just checked; it’s too expensive anyway. I ain’t buying it,” she announced. “Can you order a taxicab to take us to the hotels’ ring? You’d be a sweetheart.”
Happy to leave this irascible human with her robotic slave, I proceeded to the nearest service terminal. By the time I requested a vehicle, a flying cigarette dispenser could light me a Lucky.
“It’s forbidden to smoke in our store, Monsieur.”
The customer attaché, in his blue silk suit with elephant legs, had appeared out of nowhere. Yet, with such a shiny tie, this punk should have dazzled me from the Kuiper belt.
“Please be kind and get me a Pepper Coke instead of ruining my eyesight…” I grumbled in response.
I was in an awful mood. I definitely hated shopping. And people. Yet the pedestrian avenues of the Danaë had a very exceptional population density. Perms were making a strong comeback, as were neon tattoos and overly open flowered shirts. Under the false UVA/B sun, it was a true dance of flesh, steel and plastic bodies with assumed nudity. Implants and surgery erased the hazards of the genetic lottery for better or worse. It was so superficial. So futile. So human.
“Hello, handsome!” Ali cried out, a large smile across her face. “Lee? You didn’t tell me you knew Christophe Lambert! You know I'm a huge Highlander fan!”
My partner had just joined me, arms loaded with bags massive enough to live in it, start a family and park my chromic Pontiac Firebird. All were filled with C$400 t-shirts and sneakers that she didn’t need and would only put on once.
“No smell. Hologram,” I conclude by throwing my cigarette butt through the smiling ghost.
“Shame!” Ali sighed.
She then looked at her terminal, and continued:
“Do you think I have time to grab a watch module? There are sales in the Japanese aisle! I saw some GD-8 that would go well with my new Game Pocket! This boat is fucking rad!”
Ali could not stop humming Who wants to live forever. I had to rub my temples to avoid a migraine before the arrival of our taxicab five minutes later.
These were miniature limousines with double fake leather benches, facing each other at the back. There was a minibar with expensive multicolored drinks and sugar-soaked snacks, the sapiens’ primary source of calories and high Gs space travel drug. For the sensitive, the smart-fridge provided diet sodas with aspartame, but no one took it. Finally, there were free Gauloise cigarettes next to the ashtray on the armrest. And even Tylenol!
“What a time to be alive!”
Right after leaving the fashion district, a soft voice of a young woman, who appeared to us through the armored porthole separating her from her customers, finally emerged from the cockpit:
“Good evening! I’m Miss Meera. At your service. Hotel de Saint-Malo, correct?”
I nodded. She smiled at us. She was beautiful with her incredibly dark night metal skin that contrasted strongly with her silvery-white hair. She also had charming ivory eyes with absolutely no reflection. They were a mesmerizing void of light.
In fact, it was so rare to deal with a real person, and not an AI, that we engaged rapidly in a lovely and honest discussion with Meera. We were mostly talking about life on the Danaë. As she stated, the rules on board were very strict, even military. All was done to make sure that the customer had the most pleasant time at the expense of everything else. Finally, according to her, her condition wasn’t the most to be pitied in the cosmos. And she was fully satisfied with this precarious semi-nomadic existence.
“And what about you? Are you here on vacation or in transit for work?” she eventually asked. “What do you do for a living?”
Should we have told her that we were executing infamous people so Ali would collect expensive t-shirts and I could fulfill my nicotine addiction?
“Don’t get me wrong but I saw that you had a gun. Are you in the police… or are you pirates?”
It wasn’t the first time someone asked us this question. Although weapons were allowed on most ships and stations, it wasn’t wise to display them unless you were looking for trouble. Unfortunately, hiding such a large caliber under such a tight vest was a Herculean task.
“You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone”, simply quoted Ali, her forehead against the window covered with scented stickers.
Meera laughed before continuing:
“Very well, Al Capone. I understand that you’re not the type to let yourself be taken advantage of.”
The taxicab entered the central expressway after the water park then suddenly swerved violently to the left.
“What is going on?” I gasped.
After crushing the safety railing, we fell from one rotating bridge to the other in a frantic cavalcade. Judging by Meera’s swear words, this ride wasn’t part of the show.
Avoiding the stalls of an art market and a group of children coming out of an arcade, the driver finally managed to recover in extremis. It was about time, because within seconds we were passing through the transparent protective wall of the hotels’ deck.
“A thousand apologies! Another one of those mor… clients from the Middle System who doesn’t know how to use a rental car,” she shouted through the window. “Are you guys hurt?”
“No, thanks to you,” I replied, my tail spiked over my head, taped to Ali’s neck now decorated with bloody scratches.
Although my human forehead now had a bump on it the size of a golf ball, it was true that Meera had just saved our lives. This young girl had unsuspected driving talents despite taxicabs’ lack of handling. She didn’t belong here, playing the steward in a yellow circus uniform. This woman should have been a fighter pilot; or a NASCAR driver on Canyon Creek.
“In any case, here you’re almost in front of your hotel,” she replied. “You don’t have to pay anything, and I apologize again for the scare.”
From the outside, the taxicab now looked like a can of nutrigel after going through a crusher. Yet, it still worked. May God Darwin bless Venusian steel.
After thanking her, we wished Meera a good day. But the cockpit window suddenly went down on the passenger side. The smile of the driver had faded. She had tears at the corner of her white eyes.
“Wait!” she asked. “This weapon… do you really know how to use it?”
So, life on the Danaë wasn’t so sweet. As Meera explained to us in a secluded alleyway, a trio of criminals had come to threaten her a few days earlier, after finding she was a bodacious driver. They were preparing a heist in one of the flying city’s fifty casinos. The young woman was now ready to pay the price to settle the case.
“What is your opinion about this whole situation?” I asked Ali, once in our room, a small yet cozy suite whose glass walls overlooked the vacuum of space.
My human had applied a brownish ointment on her hump, which disappeared soon after, leaving only a slight pinkish hematoma.
“Meera said she would provide us with more details tomorrow. However, if she ponies up the cash, I don’t see why we would refuse. We ain’t mercs but these three guys must have a bounty on their heads. Let’s do our job, right?
“Indeed…”
All we had to do was wait for more instructions. Fortunately, it had been months since we had been able to take days off except on miserable gas stations full of drug addicts, implants scavengers and prostitutes.
After another morning of shopping, Ali went to the thalassotherapy center of the neighboring hotel. Her main occupation? Overeating sushi made by 3D nutrigel printing while getting massages.
Alas, I didn’t have the time to bask under the false sun of the lakeside resort and get my belly stroked. As a good captain, I had to go to the maintenance to fix the numerous damages of the Kitty. As always, the bill would be higher than expected.
Everything was orchestrated so that we would never hold a positive balance in this corrupted system. We had to chain contract after contract.
But Meera’s gig didn’t sound right. There was something I didn’t like and I couldn’t catch it yet. All my cat sensors were in the red. Unfortunately, the bounty hunter’s ones only saw the green of the bills.
Don’t judge me.
The young taxicab driver had finally contacted Ali again by holoconference in the early afternoon, shortly before I joined her at the exit of the tanning booths. Or as I called them: human toasters.
“Have you finished roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey?” I asked her as she plunged into the icy water of the adjacent basin, under the lustful gaze of a group of cadets from the Marine Academy.
“Meera will pick us up with a new taxicab in the hotel parking lot,” she whispered once back to me. “Alongside her, we will meet two of the criminals at the burglary location, shortly before midnight.”
“Go on.”
“We take care of these guys and we catch up with the last one: the band leader, in the storage cavities of the hangar reserved for the ship’s logistics. Below the last rotating ring.”
In Eve’s costume, Ali came out of the basin, not without deliberately drenching me. The water had a nasty chemical taste from being filtered day after day.
“Do you have any intelligence on these jokers?” I insisted while lighting a cigarette.
“The Broadway Gang. Three brothers. C$45,000 for the trio. We will also be able to recover at least C$10,000 of Techno-federal tax on their ship depending on its condition. Easy cash with the dollar credits that Meera promises us…”
Now sitting on the ledge, my partner splashed her feet to demonstrate her eagerness to head back swimming.
“Excellent! This will pay for the maintenance and allow us to save some money on our way to the belt.”
“Can I go now?” she asked, sliding back into the water.
“You may,” I had concluded before seeing her leave for her absurd wanderings that would fill her afternoon.
I myself was very busy making eyes at the wealthy guests of the hotel restaurant to glean a few pieces of Peking duck or juicy crabs. They were real farm animals from Mars. Not nutrigel. It was worth abandoning a little dignity aside.
With a full belly, I finally joined Ali in the middle of the evening. Arriving in the corridor of our suite, I crossed the group of cadets noticed near the swimming pool. They seemed tired but blissfully smiling as they just discovered the nirvana. And I knew why…
“Ali? Are you ready?” I said as I walked through the half-open bedroom door.
Her dressing gown had been thrown on the floor. Her gun and badge were resting on the bedside table against a giant bottle of Koala Springs soda and a pyramid of little Yoyo Mints.
To be honest, I expected a bigger mess.
“Gimme five minutes,” she replied while in the shower.
An hour later, we met Meera in the staff parking lot behind the recycling stations. Without further discussion, we joined the expressway in the taxicab. Between two noisy info-ads, the radio played Sweet Transvestite then the rest of the mythical Rocky Horror soundtrack.
“I wonder what Tim Curry’s up to these days,” asked Ali while browsing the intraweb on her implant.
“Being legendary as usual,” I answered.
Afterwards, the casino was in sight. But once on the forecourt illuminated by the gold and silver bulbs, we heard gunshots and screams. My partner and I quickly realized that this was a violent robbery rather than a modest heist.
“What the fuck, Meera?” Ali asked, turning to the porthole that separated us from the cockpit.
There was a hint of irritation in her voice.
Meera remained mute, her hands on the wheel and her gaze forward. In the rear-view mirror the young woman looked panicked.
The right door of the vehicle suddenly opened and two men sat down in front of us. They were wearing theater masks: the first was Melpomene, the sad grimace of tragedy; the second, Thalia, the twisted smile of comedy. Each brigand carried a huge metal block under his arm; drawers that were sure to be full of cash. On the other hand, they held their still smoking ZeG-4 machine guns even more firmly.
When they saw us, they both gasped, in unison:
“What the fuck, Meera?”
One… two. One… two.
Four holes in their faded tuxedo. Four bullets as big as a cat’s eye that silenced them forever, before slowly repainting the bench in red.
“What the fuck was that? You killed them!” Meera shouted this time, as she started the electric engine. “You had tasers at your disposal, you psychos!”
She had finally turned around. Her voice was quivering. She was no longer panicked, but angry.
The tasers must have slipped between the seats because I hadn’t seen them. My partner raised her eyebrows and it made me realize that their use had never been in mind.
“We’re bounty hunters, not 9 to 5 social workers!” continued Ali. “Now, you gotta motor, otherwise the cops will shoot our ass on the spot before we could even meet the third dude!”
Meera put her foot on the pedal and one could almost hear the noise of the thrusters melting the white asphalt.
“I can perceive the sirens, Ali,” I concluded before Meera entered the ring's external road reserved for logistic transport.
We then had the shortest car chase we had taken part in. The Danaë security forces may not have had the best elements in the system, but Meera’s talents didn’t give them a chance. We had crossed half a dozen rotative bridges to the rhythm of Take on Me, zigzagging between expressways and maintenance tunnels to arrive before the song ended at the deserted logistics hangar.
It was similar to a huge supermarket with honeycombed shelves. Each of these garages, dimly illuminated by red LEDs, housed a delivery or transport vessel. There was the most impressive fleet I had ever seen.
In one of the first level’s cells stood, between a set of clamps, a Swift-0 scout, from Peugeot Corp, with wings spread. The Swifts were small and very high-end single-seaters. They could be modified to integrate weapons systems, but their primary characteristics were velocity and evasion.
Leaning on the flank of the mono-turbine, the last of the three criminals, a tall blond man with a “Chevy Chase” prominent chin was looking down on the approaching taxicab.
“Were they planning to escape on that ship? The three of them?” I remarked when the vehicle stopped a few meters from the small vessel.
But Meera ignored me.
“Hand me the money, I’m going out. That was the agreement.”
The porthole opened at its base, allowing us to pass the steel cash drawers. Once the taxicab’s ignition was turned off, only their holographic numbers glowed in the dark.
“It’s all over if his cronies don’t stick their noses out of the car,” Ali replied, finally giving the second drawer away. “He’s going to figure out that it went south. He will kill you!”
Outside, the man was getting impatient. Blinded by the taxicab’s headlights, he came closer before exclaiming:
“Zéphyr, are you there? Where are my brothers? Security is closing all the departure modules. We will be stuck here, for fuck’s sake!”
He now had a gun in his hand. A machine gun identical to those of his companions currently bathed in their blood, nailed to the seats.
“Zéphyr? Wait… I know that name!” I meowed to myself.
The doors and portholes of the taxicab were locked. Ali and I were now stuck in the back with the two flatlined and most wanted criminals on the ship.
“Sorry guys, but I’ll handle the rest.”
Miss Meera, alias Zéphyr, smiled at us through the armored glass just before leaving the cockpit by the driver’s door.
“What a fucking piece of shit… Lee? Do you have a plan? I think the windows are bulletproof. I don’t feel like testing. Especially if it’s bouncing around with us inside, we will be turned into ground beef!”
“Did you forget who I am, my dear?”
I was already crawling under the seat, between a pair of Méduse shoes and half nibbled fried rat wings. It was time to demonstrate all my infiltration skills learned from Ninja Gaiden. Unfortunately, both the crab and the duck slowed me down and my belly remained for a few seconds stuck under the driver’s seat with my head on the brake pedal. How outrageous!
From the porthole, I saw Ali watching what was happening in front of us, near the ship. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I could read on her lips: “diet kibble”.
“Better off dead!” I shouted.
My paw reached the bottom of the dashboard, activating the mechanical opening of doors and windows. And, accidentally, the loudest horn in this dimension.
“My bad!”
My sapiens immediately jumped outside, pointing her gun to Zéphyr. Surprised by the thunderous din, her target pivoted towards us, uncovered, turning her back to the human with the magnificent chin and his ZeG-4 who yelled:
“What in the whole universe is that? Wait! I know her! Did you bring us bounty hunters? You were clearly planning to double-cross us!”
The man shouted and his gun produced a rain of bullets. It first hit the windshield of the taxicab, passing through the conductor compartment where I was. The rounds bent the windscreen, but it held. This wasn’t, however, the case for the hood, protecting the engine and the reservoir full of coolant, which ended up covering the seat and my face.
Fortunately, the sticky alcohol allowed me to escape from this trap and jump out of the vehicle through the window I had previously opened. But, once again, a fire ring enveloped the ZeG-4’s cannon.
“This is how I die…” I meowed, eyes closed.
I was violently tackled and hit the ground. Zéphyr had saved me at the last moment, just before bullets obliterated the front of the taxicab.
Other projectiles ricocheted off the metal money drawers on the floor and got lost in the ceiling, activating the fire sprinklers. This incident triggered a silent light alarm throughout the hangar while the mobster prepared a new salvo.
“Don’t hurt my pilot, you narbo!” roared my partner.
Ali, this time taken as a target, retaliated. She fired a single shot towards the rascal with a formidable precision. No one knew how to handle such a heavy gun as she did. She was my human. She was the best in her field: murder.
And I taught her everything. Almost.
The leader of the robbers tried to reload the magazine of his weapon, unaware that his heart had been punctured a few seconds before. Adrenaline was doing its job. But the blood loss caused by the explosion of the aorta at its base, near the ventricles, gradually stopped him in his gesture. His pressure dropped and the bloodstream no longer reached the brain sufficiently. He was already in a coma when his shoulders touched the ground. He was luckier than the average Joe and died a few seconds later.
“Is everything all right?”
My voice was trembling, still in shock from this disaster. I was wet and frozen.
Zéphyr got up with difficulty. Next to us, one of the metal drawers was opened, revealing a bunch of green bills and a much stranger booty: an eight-inch gold diskette with suspicious Chinese symbols.
Well… I couldn’t read them but Chinese symbols on stuff are always suspect, aren’t they?
But there were more important matters. Because my partner, on the other hand, stayed on the ground. Blood was dripping from her black suit and mixed with the clear firefighting fluid that was falling like an endless rain.
I tried to talk to her again but my voice was lost in a groan.
“Why are you whining, you big baby? It’s just blood.”
With her nose in a puddle, my sapiens smiled at me. Her left hand was compressing her abdomen. The bullet had passed through the external oblique muscle, far from the stomach.
It wasn’t that bad after all but she had scared me. And that deserved a scratch on the wrist that made her scream:
“What the fuck?”
“And the medical expenses? Have you thought about medical expenses? We don’t have insurance!”
“God, Uncle Scrooge! I hate you!”
“We won’t be able to fix the Kitty with your heroic outbursts!” I fulminated to mask my joy of seeing her in one piece.
“I will kill you, Muppet! I almost died! I don’t give a fuck about your rusty trash can which flies like a brick!”
It was true that we hadn’t had a fight for a long time.
“Guys…” intervened Zéphyr.
“What?”
Ali and I had spoken together.
“These three ruffians had planned to steal the diskette drive from me once I got back. I needed a hand, so… thank you… I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” my human answered dryly while sitting.
Although Zéphyr saved me, I didn’t share the same kindness:
“Wait, we’re not letting him go! Do you know who he is?”
Zéphyr. Prince of thieves. And yes, he wasn’t much of a princess either. Just an androgynous cyborg. A breakout king wanted throughout the entire system for his affiliation with the Data Brokers’ Guild. With an incredible bounty of C$800,000, she or he… whatever… was the knight of the brokers’ chessboard.
“I think we’ve had enough for today,” Ali said. “Unless you hope to go after him with these big fat guts of yours.”
“By the 79 moons of Jupiter, you shall pay for this, woman!” I meowed, angry.
My ears were backwards and my hairs were spiky. But soaking wet, it just made Ali and Zéphyr laugh.
Disgrace!
“He’s so cute when he’s furious,” he joked.
Now on his knees, the night-skinned androgynous was blotting Ali’s wound with a torn piece of fabric from his driver’s uniform.
“But more seriously, I need to go. With the bounty, you’ll be able to repair your vessel. As for the hospital fees, I will contact a good friend who will take care of you for free. She’s the ship’s chief medical officer.”
“Thank you,” I simply replied as he helped my partner get back on her feet.
“It’s the least I can do. I wasn’t interested in money. More important information is contained in this,” he said as he was picking up the floppy disk.
This golden diskette must have been worth a lot of cash for Zéphyr to play a taxicab driver to ensure coverage. I had perceived that something was fishy!
Then, halfway to his Swift-0, Zéphyr stopped. I witnessed his hesitation.
“There was nothing personal, you know. We’re all just trying to make our way. The best we can…”
And he ultimately left before adding:
“Maybe we’ll see each other again! You seem like fun.”
Before fleeing away, Zéphyr abandoned one of the boxes near the criminal’s corpse. Thus, he validated the theory of a robbery that had gone wrong. When the security arrived a few minutes later, we were the heroes of the day. And with a little bribe, nobody cared about Zéphyr’s missing ship.
This whole story surely left us a bitter taste. A feeling of defeat and humiliation that the swimming pool under the synthetic sun couldn’t make disappear even a week after.
“He undoubtedly played us as we were rookies, with his little face of a young innocent girl in distress,” I said to Ali right after the end of the daily Brett Maverick.
This old show was dispensed on a couple of giant screens suspended by drones.
Until now, Ali had remained silent on her deckchair; with a brick of sour juice stuck between her breasts and a pair of straws between her teeth. Only inaudible grunts emanated from her mouth since the departure of the sexually unclassifiable mugger.
“I wonder what information this fucking cyber-Tootsie could have been looking for in that casino,” my human mumbled as she squeaked her rainbow flip-flops.
“Admit that it’s not really that question that puts you in such a state…” I answered, now well installed on my motorized buoy that I had gotten as a gift in a diet kibbles package.
“You bet! I will have a nasty tan mark on my stomach with these bandages!” she exploded, spitting out her plastic straws with infinite curls.
My float slipped towards the ledge as a robot came to bring us our next glucose overdose.
Ali finally added:
“I swear that if we run into him again, I’ll smack his fucking angel face.”
Back to business!

I have done extensive research on ALOT of subjects, you could say i am learning everything under the sun and thus have came to the following conclusions:
I understand how your family works, your companies, your routes around the world, and several of your questionable locations and businesses. I want you to come find me, talk to me, I know your out there...
There is this restricted mine town in Elizabeth Bay, that has a Siemens metal bar (industrial) at the mine (picture in link) meaning the company has their hands in a dirty business. Conveniently, there is also a Restricted diamond mining area nearby. We all know about the blood diamonds.. 🩸 💎
According to Wikipedia, "Siemens AG is a German multinational conglomerate company headquartered in Munich and the largest industrial manufacturing company in Europe with branch offices abroad. The principal divisions of the company are Industry, Energy, Healthcare (Siemens Healthineers), and Infrastructure & Cities, which represent the main activities of the company. The company is a prominent maker of medical diagnostics equipment and its medical health-care division, which generates about 12 percent of the company's total sales, is its second-most profitable unit, after the industrial automation division. The company is a component of the Euro Stoxx 50 stock market index.”
The most interesting thing about Siemens is a former Bush Family member, maybe even a president was part of 🤡
Headquarters: Munich, Germany Area served: Worldwide Key people: 1. Jim Hagemann Snabe (Chairman) 2. Joe Kaeser (CEO) 3. Roland Busch!!! (Deputy CEO)
Products: Power generation technology, industrial and buildings automation, medical technology, railway vehicles, water treatment systems, fire alarms, PLM software
Services: Business services, financing, project engineering and construction
Divisions: Smart InfrastructurePower and GasDigital IndustriesHealthineersSiemens MobilitySiemens GamesaIoT ServicesNext 47Siemens Financial Services
According to Wikipedia the founder of Siemens & Halske (original Siemens) was, “Ernst Werner Siemens (von Siemens from 1888; 13 December 1816 – 6 December 1892) who was a German electrical engineer, inventor and industrialist. Siemens's name has been adopted as the SI unit of electrical conductance, the siemens. He founded the electrical and telecommunications conglomerate Siemens.
He is the fourth child (of fourteen) of a tenant farmer of the Siemens family, an old family of Goslar, documented since 1384. He was a brother of Carl Heinrich von Siemens and Carl Wilhelm Siemens.
Parents: Christian Ferdinand Siemens (31 July 1787 – 16 January 1840) and wife Eleonore Henriette Siemens (Deichmann) (1792 – 8 July 1839).”
There seems to be a potential family connection between Eleonore Deichmann and Anna Eleanor Roosevelt (October 11, 1884 – November 7, 1962) and a major connection (marriage) between the Bushes and Eleanors. Coincidence? I don’t believe so... at least one of their families lines, if not both are connected to the Royals and Rothschilds, the same goes for any other individual mentioned in this page.
Prescott Bush was the father of George Herbert Walker Bush and the grandfather of George W. Bush, both future presidents. He helped finance Hitler from America. Due to his funding, his organization was seized in the, “Trading With The Enemy Act of 1942.”
George W. Bush, becomes the 43rd President of the United States in the year 2000. Bush and his family declare they are the ancestors of the House of Plantagenet, whose linage stems from the Royal House of Judah.
Could it be the “Herbert” Walker Bush is really really related to Herbert Simon founder of the original company of, before it was renamed and reestablished as Simon Property Group, Inc./Ltd?
This would mean the Trumps, Bushes, and any other household politically/government affiliated individual are all part of the royal house and share the same “bloodline” and also control/have connections in other countries like Russia/Germany/Italy/England/etc...
They put on “a show” for the general public through the media to make it appear as if there are “issues,” to create chaos in the public, so no one catches on to the reality, which is they a connected family line living in different countries that work together behind the scenes and create problems to mislead to further their own gain. Occasionally, one of the families may become more selfish and double-cross their other family members, but that’s a different story...
Ever wonder why celebrities and Royals have strange or repeating names? Above is why. Conveniently, the last names came be changed through marriage (or even a 2nd/3rd identity) to cover their tracks. 

“ Carl Heinrich von Siemens (often just Carl von Siemens) (3 March 1829 – 21 March 1906).
In 1853, Carl Siemens traveled to St. Petersburg where he established the branch office of his brothers company Siemens & Halske. Siemens had a contract for constructing the Russian telegraph network at the time.
Carl went to England in 1869, where he assisted his brother William. In the 1880s, he returned to Russia before he became the senior chief executive of Siemens & Halske after the death of his brother Werner in 1892. He resigned in 1904. For his service to Russia, he was ennobled by Tsar Nicholas II in 1895.”
Clearly, Siemens, a company headquartered in Germany, but established worldwide, has deep connections with Russia concerning many businesses including power (electricity), communication network, and industrial side...and on top of that the American Bush family has their hands in it, so one could only come to the conclusion every problem ever created is a lie...
Why? It is simply a power struggle between the 5 original Rothschild/Royal families that established themselves worldwide a long time ago. From that point forward they branched out, married their family members from the other countries (to keep the money in family and grow simultaneously).
Eventually we are in today’s time, and they all have different last names and have grown so large you can barley tell them apart. They purposefully “cover” their tracks they best they can...
Trump is also related to the Royals. Near the bottom is more information.
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More deceased family members that established “the electric telecommunications empire.” If you follow the names listed and family lines I’m sure you will find a connection.
His brother: Sir Carl Wilhelm Siemens FRS FRSA (4 April 1823 – 19 November 1883), anglicised to Charles William Siemens, was a German-British electrical engineer and businessman.”
Occupation: Electrical engineer, businessman Known for: Siemens-Martin process Spouse(s): Anne Gordon Parent(s): Christian Ferdinand Siemens and Eleonore Deichmann Relatives: Ernst Werner von Siemens, Carl Heinrich von Siemens, Alexander Siemens
Alexander Siemens (22 January 1847 – 16 February 1928) was a German electrical engineer
Occupation: Engineer Spouse(s): Louisa Dodwell Children: Three daughters Parent(s): Gustav and Sophie Siemens Engineering career Discipline: Civil, Electrical, Institutions Institution of Civil Engineers (president), Society of Telegraph Engineers and Electricians (founder member) Practice: Siemens Brothers Projects: World's first public electricity supply (at Godalming) lamps and cables for the electric industry.
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“John Hopkinson, FRS, (27 July 1849 – 27 August 1898) was a British physicist, electrical engineer, Fellow of the Royal Society and President of the IEE (now the IET). He invented the three-wire (three-phase) system for the distribution of electrical power, for which he was granted a patent in 1882. In 1890 was appointed professor of electrical engineering at King's College London, where he was also director of the Siemens Laboratory.”
(Towards the bottom of this page is the information about the company, who owns it and talks about other connections/info/services).
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I believe Simon Property Group, Inc./Ltd. to be Donald Trump’s ‘The Trump Organization.’
According to Wikipedia, “The Trump Organization is a group of about 500 business entities of which Donald Trump owns. About 250 of these entities use the Trump name.”
That means the other 250 are “under a different name,” Simon Property group perhaps...the Trumps sure do love real estate and investments and Simon Property group sure seems to have a very similar history to the Trump tower almost as though they are the same business just divided into 2 separately names business to confuse you. I honestly can’t blame you...🏥💰☸️ Where’s Simon? Hello 👋 Simon, I know exactly who you are, I found you! ⚖️
“The organization was founded in 1923 by Donald Trump's grandmother, Elizabeth Christ Trump, and his father, Fred Trump, as E. Trump & Son. Donald Trump began leading it in 1971, renamed it around 1973, and handed off its leadership to his children in 2017.”
Areas served: • United States Canada Japan Mexico South Korea Malaysia Thailand Key people: David E. Simon (CEO/Chairman), Herbert Simon (founder), Cowell Simon (More information about these individuals/companies towards end of page.)
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Berkshire Hathaway (founded by Oliver Chase—important! His family relations connect to the others! This same concept applies to any other families/companies mentioned), is currently run by CEO Warren E. Buffett, Charles T. Munger and AJit Jain
According to Wikipedia, “Berkshire now owns a diverse range of businesses including confectionery, retail, railroads, home furnishings, encyclopedias, manufacturers of vacuum cleaners, jewelry sales, manufacture and distribution of uniforms, and several regional electric and gas utilities.”
I want to point out just like the Trump Organization, Semens, and Simons, Berkshire is involved in investments including investments, property, and real estate!!!! Tisk, Tisk, Tisk...
On top of that the company messes with jewels...that can only come from place, the the blood diamond mines or other types of mines (salt/oil/metals/precious stones/etc...) $$$$$ 🙂🙃😉
He also owns a large part of the railroad system (transportation/ports— also used for sex/drug trafficking/transporting goods/etc.) that Berkshire Hathaway owns.
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Let not forget Bill Gates! He owns the American/Canadian railway and when Warren Buffett dies, everything that Warren owns aka Berkshire Hathaway and its companies and railroads will ALL be donated to the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation, giving them control over all the major railways within the US and control over almost all the major businesses and products we buy everyday.
Sounds like a monopoly to me, but whatever, it’s almost kinda amazing how all you guys worked together to create this misleading, heading in the wrong direction “empire”...
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Whomever is reading this and this goes for ANYONE, if you truly want to change how the world works find and hold every individual accountable for their actions that are connected to the hypothetical laws and business empire they have created and yes it’s hypothetically, interpretation and perception of the laws is important... lawyers do it all the time... EVERYONE has a choice, the majority of Individuals “support” the system ONLY, because that’s all they’ve ever known.. since birth it gets ingrained into your head.
Psychology/reverse psychology and the mind is quite a powerful tool that can be easily manipulated, if you understand it that is...
But ultimately, you only have one life and it’s quite fucked to be living on the “Earth Prison” that the whole population is responsible for creating in today’s world. Like wtf? You can’t do anything anymore, fuck that! And yes, it’s equally everyone’s fault. The Elites for creating this “chaotic prison world” to further their plans that fit their needs only... and the rest of Earth’s general population who follows every word you say, like the good dogs they are. I’m sorry, but it’s true... and that’s why they should not be held accountable, unless of course someone “chooses” to take it into their own hands for whatever reason they have..I’m sure once the full truth is finally revealed many individuals will be shocked and very angry... who knows where that may lead, some won’t care, and others knew it was coming all along...
The golden rule, “Treat others, how you would want to be treated.”
The US constitution is unconstitutional. I stand by this.It does not define what it specifically means by “principle.” Aka it’s values. It merely states the individual principles as a whole aka “our bill of rights” and defines laws under them, but not once defines, what specific “principle” they ment... this means I can interpret it how I like, regardless of how many laws there are, bc they did not specify which definition of the word “principles” they meant. It can have several definitions and meanings, so how do I know how to properly interpret it? It doesn’t specify.... It’s all an “act” just like all the “bills” they write... What would the puppet show be without it right?
Listed below is how the hypothetically true “money/drug/sex-traffic/electricty, water, land, and other laundering businesses” are connected.
I have thought about this for a very long time, I have studied them, and put myself if their shoes...I try to be as fair as possible, though the families and companies listed below are all connected (marriage/2nd identity bc of incest and/or trying to hide, what the publicly traded companies really are [Fortune 500, for example] that everyone [general public] supports by working foin/or against the system.
Yes, some of these individuals are guilty of horrendous crimes including mass genocide, but that’s okay, I’ve decided, as long as they break their evil system down and convert it into a positive system that truly works in favor of the people instead of Exploiting the whole world and storing children and animals in shipping containers? Like wtf is that shit? Are you not ashamed of yourselves? Is greed worth it? A black soul and heart... I am the soul collector and I am coming for you! Neither good nor bad, I hear the screams I hear the prayers and the rituals, I hear the true desires...And yes, I am fully aware you know that I know... so here is my reply. And don’t get me wrong if anyone else has a valid reason as to how you harmed them,and they decide to come for you, remember it’s their choice and it was also your choice to harm them in whatever way...the golden rule, I say!
I hope whomever is part of this... I can teach you, to convert the negative into positive... I have many plans to share...
I understand the structure and something or someone will always be greater and it’s equal will always be the lesser. They are the same just a different perspective... The structure needs to be turned inside out and needs to be rearranged.
Everyone and Everything can easily be categorized. In simple terms this is what Algorithms are. I call it the chaotic pattern...The Alpha algorithm or what I’m assuming is the main quantum computer that combines the ALL separate individuals’ data on Earth (mini algorithm), information everyone freely gives out everyday without thinking twice about it, into a super algorithm that could potentially “predict” the future and make “plans” based on all this knowledge and data collected as to how humans behave, what they buy, live, etc.. into a nice chart that could potentially be followed...
I understand that most of were born into this pre-established family business and were breed to continue the traditions... it’s normal that’s just how it’s always been... That’s why your family is not necessarily guilty even though at the same time you are, bc you kept pushing the agenda knowing what was really happening behind the scenes.
I guess everyone part of your family or any of the associated business owned by many individuals are lucky that they are not stuck in shipping containers, sex trafficking, 🩸 Diamond mines, drugs, laundering, etc.... imagine being on the opposite end of the spectrum...
Why not use your power and money for the light good instead of the shadow of evil. Negative energy collects and feeds in ways that you don’t for-see.
I see the whole spectrum even the electro-magnetic frequency rays force behind it all. Adam the first living universal Atom spark that created the universes lives within me... I see everything on the spectrum. It’s a blessing and a curse. The  fibonacci curse and the curse of 3s... I see ALL the forms of 3s.
Below are questionable companies responsible for horrendous crimes and individuals who are connected to one another usually by marriage or birth... All the information below stems from different Wikipedia sites (sources). There are many more companies and people involved I did not mention. But I see you Simpsons, Burns, i see who Hitler really was it’s not like he is really someone’s father...🙃, Stewie, and so many others 🧐 I see you ALL!!!! Hello Rothschilds! I’ve studied your family tree extensively, I see all the different names used for the same people to hide the incest. You should be proud, without it, you could have never built this empire.
I would bet your whole kingdom that, I share your bloodline, I too am from Rheinland-Pfalz, marked the female bear born on the half moon 🌓 I truly miss it, but bc of your “vaccine plan” I probably will never be able to travel there again, since I do not trust a vaccine whose long-term effects are not known.
It’s not like the military gave my dad a shot that gave him progressive supranuclear palzy years later, he’s the youngest person to ever “get this disease” in the world...they studied him at Harvard. I don’t trust it. Why would I? It destroyed his life! From the bottom of my heart, whomever is responsible for giving all the soldiers shots containing different diseases in the 80s and early 90s, FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! That’s why I hate the world system so much and refuse to support it.
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Wikipedia states about Simon Inc./Ltd: "Simon Property Group, Inc. is an American commercial real estate company, one of the largest retail real estate investment trusts (REIT), and the largest shopping mall operator in the US.
The company operates five retail real estate platforms: regional malls, premium outlet centers, The Mills, community/lifestyle centers and international properties.
It owns or has an interest in more than 204 properties of gross leasable area in North America and Asia. The company is headquartered in Indianapolis, Indiana, and employs more than 5,000 people."
Simon Property Group, Inc. has served these: United States Canada Japan Mexico South Korea Malaysia Thailand
According to Wikipedia a: "Commercial property, also called commercial real estate, investment property or income property, is real estate (buildings or land) intended to generate a profit, either from capital gains or rental income.
Commercial property includes: office buildings, medical centers, hotels, malls, retail stores, multifamily housing buildings, farm land, warehouses, and garages. In many states, residential property containing more than a certain number of units qualifies as commercial property for borrowing and tax purposes.
Commercial buildings are buildings that are used for commercial purposes, and include: office buildings, warehouses, and retail buildings (e.g. convenience stores, 'big box' stores, and shopping malls). In urban locations, a commercial building may combine functions, such as offices on levels 2-10, with retail on floor 1."
Wikipedia states: "A real estate investment trust (REIT) is a company that owns, and in most cases operates, income-producing real estate. REITs own many types of commercial real estate, ranging from office and apartment buildings to warehouses, hospitals, shopping centers, hotels and commercial forests. Some REITs engage in financing real estate."
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Founders of Simon Inc.: Melvin Simon and Herbert Simon
• Simon Founder: Melvin Simon (October 21, 1926 – September 16, 2009) Spouse(s): Wife 1. Bess Meshulam born: née Meshulam-(divorced)
Wife 2. Bren Burns
Children: 5 including: 1. David E. Simon (with Bess) 2. Cindy Simon (with Bess) 3. Cowell Simon? 4.? 5.? Relatives:Paul Skjodt (son-in-law)
• Founder Melvins son: David E. Simon (born 1961/1962) is an American billionaire real estate developer, chairman and chief executive officer (CEO) of Indianapolis-based Simon Property Group, an S&P 500 company and the largest U.S. publicly traded real estate company. Net worth US$1.0 billion (2017) Spouse(s): Jacqueline Freed (1986) Children: 5 Relatives: Melvin Simon (Father) Paul Skjodt: (brother-in-law)
• Simon Founder; Herbert "Herb" Simon (born October 23, 1934) is an American real estate developer. Spouses: 3 Children: 10 --two with first wife --three with Meyer --two with Nakhirunkanok --three adopted children Parent(s): Max Simon Mae Simon Family: Melvin Simon (brother)
Wife 1: Shelia Simon 1. Sheila Simon (divorced)-2 kids including Stephen Howard Simon, founder of Simon Equity LLC, (married Catherine Garvey Simon)
Wife 2: Diane Meyer Simon (born Diane Irene Meyer). She is the former wife of Indiana real estate billionaire Herbert Simon. Diane Meyer (divorced)-3 kids. She was the political staffer for Senator Birch Bayh.
They have 3 kids: 1. Sarah Elisabeth Meyer Simon- an investor who lives in New York City

1. Rachel Mariam Meyer Simon Stuart- is living in Indianapolis with her husband Hale Stuart and daughter Zara
   
2. Asher Benjamin Meyer Simon.
   

Wife 3: He married to Bui Simon in 2002 (born Porntip Nakhirunkanok) in Thailand (February 7, 1969--51 years old) Children: 2?
Paul Skjodt (born June 28, 1958) is an American-Canadian businessman, and former ice hockey player.
In 1987, he married Cindy Simon, the daughter of Melvin Simon and Bess Simon. They have 3 children: 1. Erik 2. Samantha 3. Ian
Relatives: Melvin Simon (father-in-law) David Simon: (brother-in-law)
I'm pretty sure Cindy Simon is really Sara J. Bloomfield the director of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, since Cindy and her husband are the "founders."
Wikipedia states, "The Trump Organization is a group of about 500 business entities of which Donald Trump is the sole or principal owner. About 250 of these entities use the Trump name.
The organization was founded in 1923 by Donald Trump's grandmother, Elizabeth Christ Trump, and his father, Fred Trump, as E. Trump & Son. Donald Trump began leading it in 1971, renamed it around 1973, and handed off its leadership to his children in 2017.
The Trump Organization, through its various constituent companies and partnerships, has or has had interests in: real estate development, investing, brokerage, sales and marketing, and property management.
Trump Organization entities own, operate, invest in, and develop: residential real estate, hotels, resorts, residential towers, and golf courses in various countries.
They also operate or have operated in: construction, hospitality, casinos, entertainment, book and magazine publishing, broadcast media, model management, retail, financial services, food and beverages, business education, online travel, commercial and private aviation and beauty pageants.
Trump Organization entities also own the New York television production company that produced the reality television franchise The Apprentice.
Retail operations include or have included: fashion apparel, jewelry and accessories, books, home furnishings, lighting products, bath textiles and accessories, bedding, home fragrance products, small leather goods, vodka, wine, barware, steaks, chocolate bars, and bottled spring water."
Donald John Trump (born June 14, 1946) Children 5 with Spouse(s): 3
Wife 1: Ivana Zelníčková (m. 1977; div. 1992)​ was born on February 20, 1949, in the Moravian city of Zlín, Czech Republic (Gottwaldov, Czechoslovakia) and is the daughter of Miloš Zelníček (1927–1990) and Marie Zelníčková (née Francová).
Children: 3 1. Donald Trump Jr. 2. Ivanka Trump 3. Eric Trump
Wife 2: Marla Maples ​(m. 1993; div. 1999)​
Wife 3: Melania Knauss ​(m. 2005)​
Parents of Trump: Fred Trump Mary Anne MacLeod
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Amschel Moses Rothschild was born in about 1710. He was a German Jewish silk trader and money changer in the Judengasse (Jewstreet) in Frankfurt. Around 1743 he placed a red hexagram sign (which numerically and geometrically convert into the number 666) above the entrance of his door. His house was also red in color.
Within two centuries, the Rothschild, instructed this hexagram sign to be made part of the Israeli flag 🇮🇱. He had 8 children with Schönche Lechnich, one of his sons, Mayer Amschel Rothschild (1744-1812), is the founder of the Rothschild banking dynasty. He marries Guttle SchnappeSchönche Lechnich (Rothschild) in 1770, and they have 10 children together.
In 1776, Mayer Amschel Rothschild creates the Illuminati and hands over the organizations development to Adam Weishaupt. Weishaupt sneaks in the Continental Order of Freemasons with this Illuminati doctrine. This doctrine claims a new order for the human race under the dictatorship of Satan and his supporters. This view is accepted and spread like a wildfire and is pursued in Masonic Lodges worldwide to this day.
In 1777, Nathan Mayer Rothschild is born, who is followed by Kalmann (Carl) Mayer Rothschild/Carl Mayer Freiherr von Rothschild in 1788. Carl is the founder of the Rothschild banking family of Naples. He had child named Adolf Carl....
Edmond James de Rothschild (Baron Abraham Edmond Benjamin James de Rothschild) has a son named Maurice de Rothschild. (Notice the name “Baron”...).
Adolf Hitler is really Maurice de Rothschild with fake beard and hair piece and carries out his father’s (Edmond James de Rothschild) work. Since the war caused a sugar shortage, Maurice would have also been the candy man aka Willy Wonka with his Cain top hat 🎩
Adolf HitleMaurice de Rothschild also has another name, which I believe to be Fred Trump, making trump his son... The pictures look to comparable... Anne (Anna), Mary, Maria, and Christ seems to be a shared motherly name between the Rothschild family history, Trumps, and Hitler.... (if you look up hitlers mom, it’s clearly a fake-photoshopped image). Also notice Trump’s youngest son is named “Barren.”
One must remember it is very easy to put misinformation out there, that includes changing names/birthdays/ and “events” that happened in their lives. Usually the birthdays are around the same years or don’t fully mention the full birthday for one individual, a lot of names also seem to repeat, which could be considered another clue towards the truth.
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Baron Abraham Edmond Benjamin James de Rothschild (19 August 1845 – 2 November 1934) was a French member of the Rothschild banking family. A strong supporter of Zionism, his large donations lent significant support to the movement during its early years, which helped lead to the establishment of the State of Israel, where he is simply known as "the baron Rothschild".
Nationality: French Spouse(s): Adelheid von Rothschild (m. 1877)​ Children: 3 1. James Armand de Rothschild 2. Maurice de Rothschild 3. Alexandrine de Rothschild
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“Maurice Edmond Karl de Rothschild (19 May 1881 – 4 September 1957) was a French art collector, vineyard owner, financier and politician. He was born into the Rothschild banking family of France.”
Spouse(s): Noémie Halphen ​(m. 1909)​ Children : Edmond Adolphe de Rothschild (b. 1926)
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“Edmond Adolphe Maurice Jules Jacques de Rothschild or Baron Edmond de Rothschild (born 30 September 1926 in Paris, France – deceased 2 November 1997 in Geneva, Switzerland) was a French-Swiss banker, the founder of the Edmond de Rothschild Group in 1953. His investments extended to vineyards, yacht racing, farming and hospitality.”
Spouse(s): 1. Veselinka Vladova Gueorguieva ​(m. 1958⁠–⁠1960)​ (1 child—Trump?!?) 2. Nadine de Rothschild (m. 1963)​ (Trump’s sister ?) Children: Benjamin de Rothschild (b. 1963)
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The pictures are linked below and in the comments, due to this being reddit I can’t show all the pics or the potential routes.
https://imgur.com/gallery/ViO5cEL
As Lil Wayne said, —“I am ill not sick
Nobody gives you a chance, you gotta take chances Your family tree, I will break branches Cause I don't give a fuck, I put the ass in assassin Smoke you like a blunt then it's ashes to ashes The future is born, put the past in the casket If real shit is dead then nigga I'm a bastard Uh, appetite for disaster I want a full plate then another plate after
Gorillas in suits The holy war, the spiritual troops Fighting over the mythical truth Drowning in the political soup They shoot missiles and nukes Taking out such a pivotal group The body count is the physical proof And they thought drugs were killing the youth (ha, ha, ha, ha) Thank you, Thank you all
I am president Carter”

Some words from u/eruwenn and I. Enjoy?
First / Prev / Next

 

  Chae’Sol stood at the centre of a large command deck, meticulously peeling the protective film from his new captain’s chair. The sensation of the slow but steady yielding of the film, the sweeping line following the contours of the seat in flowing curves; it was incredibly satisfying. Finally, with one last gentle pull, the last of his chair was uncovered and he stood back to admire his throne. Aside from the freshness of the seating itself, there were shiny new holo displays, touch sensors, and comms relays that were within easy reach of his seated fingertips. This ship would be the jewel in any fleet, a prototype Dreadnought made by the infamous Bardul of Shi’an. The Gowe Military faction had run into financial problems, and it had been left unpaid and unclaimed. What sorcery Kadir had used to find it, and purchase it, he did not know.
His comms unit beeped and Danyd’s voice came through. “Chae’S-” -He grumbled incoherently- “Captain, we’re ready to get underway.”
The Niham turned and sat back on his pristine chair, swinging his long legs over the armrest. “That was quick, Chief Engineer Ef’Yto”
Danyd grunted at the use of his title. “Aye, these Awakened are efficient bastards.” The Satryn looked around at the enormous engineering bay. The entirety of the Porkchop Express could comfortably sit inside, and two of them could likely squeeze in. “Plus, this thing has never been used; feels weird not having anything to work on. It’s state of the art, and I’m having to read the manuals on half the new systems.”
Chae’Sol laughed, looking around at the Awakened as they were preparing their workstations. “Yeah, this command deck is a little intimidating. Even the Niham Armada didn’t have ships like this. There are fifteen weapons stations here, what in Tulseria’s name were the Gowe planning to do with this thing?”
“No idea.” The chief engineer walked to the large seat in front of his new work terminal, and hopped up onto it. The protective covering squeaked. “This thing has more firepower than half their fleet, it must have been something big. We’re lucky Kadir found out about the graveyard of unclaimed ships from one of his contacts.”
The newly-minted captain swung his legs down and sat up, straightening his black uniform and white collar. “That’s another thing: how does he have so many contacts? I was in the Tulseria-damned military, and I had no idea they would sell us fighters and weapons.”
“I know the feeling.” Danyd watched a junior engineer – Lily, an Awakened who wore a headband in her silver hair that sported long Kittran ears on it – begin running diagnostics on the Hoban Field Generator. “I'm aware he got the automated weapons for the system port from my people, somehow. As for how he accomplishes all he does, I think his time working with that fancy Anatidae councillor opened more than a couple of doors for him.”
Chae’Sol stood, running his fingers through his perfect hair. “Doors, windows, rear entrances and damned secret portals, all leading to a dark realm of shady deals and supplies. We have an Imperium Capital Ship for Tulseria’s sake! Nobody knows where he got it, or where he’s now hidden it.” He looked at his holo display, noting the specks springing blinking into existence as the other ships of Federation origin came to life. “Let’s just be glad he’s on our side.”
The chief engineer tugged at the green collar to his uniform. “Our side used to be a damn sight smaller.” Lily had finished her diagnostic tests and sent the results to his console. Her report included an adjustment that would create a potential three percent increase in crystal efficiency, and a small drawing of a smiling leokit with a crim-bar. He groaned, then reported back with, “We’re ready to go when you are.”
The Niham strode confidently across the command deck, stopping to stand in front of the huge vid screen at the front of the room. All around him were his crew, made up mostly from the Ashi, Awakened, and Kasurians. “Let’s get this show started.”
 
 
Jaym sat with a bowl of Tony the leokas cereal in front of her. It wasn't just a catchy advertising slogan - it really was great. She and Elizabeth had worked together so much in the engineering section of the Porkchop Express that they had become close, often spending their free time together. Indeed, Elizabeth currently sat opposite her, carefully rebuilding a power coupling and occasionally tapping at her datapad. Shortly after the results of her most recent tap played out, Elizabeth paused her work on the power coupling. Without speaking, she held up her datapad so that Jaym could see.
On the screen was Tony and his mate Jolie, and Skeena’s voice could be heard excitedly talking about collecting urine samples from the female. Jaym screwed up her face at first until Skeena announced the pregnancy test was positive. Tony was going to be a father! She couldn't contain her joy and screamed loudly, grabbing the screen and running all the way to the bridge to show the others.
Ranjaz was stretched out across the captain’s chair as Jaym burst in, and didn’t open his eyes until she began shaking his leg. Even then he didn’t pay much attention. “I told you not to let Elizabeth play with any more systems till after the mission.”
She blushed slightly, as their last improvement had inverted their water treatment system and blown six power couplings. "It's not that!" she said, holding up the datapad and starting the video. "Look!"
At the first syllable of Skeena's voice, Ranjaz sat bolt upright. The video held his full attention, and when Tony's impending fatherhood was announced the Kittran's whoops of delight could be heard all through the Porkchop Express. He reached underneath his seat and retrieved a small, fluffy bed, then picked up Aiov. Ranjaz led his unusual dance partner in a quick spin of joy before replaying the GalacTube video for her. “You’re going to be an Aunty!”
Eruwenn leaned back in the large seat that had once been Embar’s. “I didn’t think they were related?”
The Kittran nodded. “Aiov is Tony’s sister. Aaron adopted them both, and that’s how human families work. They just keep adding members, like a Dular adding shells to its burrow. Family is family.”
Cygna pressed a few buttons on her Navigator terminal, moving the video to the main screen as well as starting it over. “I still can’t believe you keep one of these under your seat. I mean, it’s a leokas!”
Ranjaz held Aiov up and they briefly rubbed noses. “Just a little one!”
The Anatidae laughed. “I can see living with the human has had quite a profound effect on you.”
With one of his trademark grins he held Aiov out towards Eruwenn. “Wanna nose rub?”
"Ah," the councillor said, shrinking back from the offer, "despite her size she is still a predator, and I am not quite ready for such a close encounter.”
From the pilot seat Ripley stood, taking Aiov from Ranjaz. “She is not a toy.” She briefly snuggled the tiny leokit to her chest, then passed her to Jaym. “Take her for food and exercise; she must grow up strong.”
Jaym also cuddled the wriggling Aiov close, and not just because the little leokit was adorable. Aiov had tripled in size, and was becoming a bit of a handful. “Thor was preparing her food; I’ll take her down to him.”
Once the junior engineer had left, and Ripley returned to the pilot seat, Ranjaz began tapping on the console in front of him. “Looks like we’ll be free to take the shuttle down to the surface with the next group.”
Cygna drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “I didn’t realise it would be so busy.”
Ranjaz shrugged. “There was a quake on the fourth planet, so mining colonies are shut down while the nerds poke around. Along with that, we got three big freighters waiting for resupply. That’s a lot of bored folks looking to kill time.” Ripley grunted, prompting a chuckle from the Kittran. “You don’t approve of their choice of leisure activity?”
After their few cycles together Eruwenn was already learning a lot about her shipmates. Ripley, for instance, wasn’t one for talking. She decided to interject before the Captain irritated her too much, as they would need her focus soon enough. “Gambling and pleasure palaces are not to everyone's taste, of course, but these sorts of things are covered under local governance.”
Without skipping a beat Ranjaz replied, “I know that’s the official line, but you sure as shit have tax codes for all of it. If you want to look down on folks, don’t pretend you aren’t profiting from it.”
Cygna, ever defensive of her mentor, jumped in. “That’s a bold statement for someone who never paid a credit in tax until it was automatically deducted from his Galactic Federation pay.”
Ranjaz laughed, then continued, keeping his voice care-free. “Taxed on what? I never owned anything.”
Eruwenn could see the trap her junior was walking into but decided to let this be a learning experience. The Kittran was wily, and the Anatidae found him entertaining. Cygna, as she had predicted, scoffed at his claims. “I’ve read your file. When you were arrested you had a ship, five shuttles and thousands in valuable goods confiscated.”
“Exactly!” His eyes lit up as he cornered her. “It was confiscated because it was stolen, so I didn’t own it. Imagine a world where you can keep stolen goods if you pay tax on them. Even I think that’s crazy.”
The Fae’Dan paused, and the anger evaporated from her voice as she realized what he had said, replaced by a slightly impressed tone of surprise. “Well, maybe, but… Really? You stole all of it?”
Ranjaz shrugged. “Or won it. I’m pretty good at Dalcho.”
Cygna perked up. “I play Dalcho myself, we shou-”
“No,” Eruwenn interrupted. Some lessons were too expensive. “Do not play Dalcho with someone who can get free priority entry permits to a casino.”
The former operative shook her head. “I’m a great player, you’ve seen me in the council chambers. I took that Ley’Rulian trader for five hundred credits.”
The Anatidae smiled kindly. “And he had five shuttles when he was arrested.”
Cygna slowly turned from Eruwenn to Ranjaz, noticing his grin and the sparkle in his eye. It was most definitely the smile of a predator. He gave a little chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’s been a long time since I played. No gambling on Galactic Federation ships, you know.” He laughed again. “Oh wait, you read my file.”
The Fae’Dan nodded. “Perhaps we should focus on the mission.” She gave a slight bow to Eruwenn before returning her attention to her console.
Ranjaz looked at Eruwenn and stuck out his tongue. “Don’t ruin my fun!”
The Ambassador smiled. “I don’t play Dalcho, but there is a human game called chess I quite enjoy. Perhaps we could play sometime?”
The Kittran gave a nod. Keeping his voice neutral, he replied. “I don’t know that one, but there’s another human game we could try. Poker?”
"We have permission to dock at the holding ring and send down a shuttle," Ripley abruptly called out. "Let’s get this whatever it is and make the rendez-vous.”
Both of Ranjaz’s fangs showed as he grinned. “If we’re going to pull a job on Chisola Prime, first you’re going to need to look the part!”
 
 
Aaron walked down the corridor of the Hive ship, the strange spiderlike creature trailing behind him as he followed one of the corpse vines as it receded deeper into the ship. He turned and watched the creature, which shrank back from him and crouched low to the ground. “I’m sorry I kicked you. You simply startled me; you don’t have to hide.”
The lighting never changed in the endless corridors of the ship, and only the most uninteresting of doors deigned open for him. At this point, he had lost track of time completely. Through perseverance he’d made several important discoveries. The bulbous shapes in the flower vase room were seats; he was fairly certain of that after finding another room with bodies sitting in them. The vines that came for them were the ones he was now following, and by now he must have seen hundreds of dead Hive.
The second discovery was that the Hive came in a variety of shapes and sizes. There were two main ones, as far as he could tell, and the first were the four legged kind that had so kindly thrown him in the rejuvenating jelly bean. The second was bipedal, and looked a hell of a lot meaner. While the ones he deemed workers looked somewhat like ants to him, in shades of reds and browns, the second type looked much more commanding. Their carapace had thicker layers of armour in green, gold and red, and was spiked at the shoulders and joints. Even their legs had spines and to top the look off their heads were much more angular. Whether they were soldiers, commanders, or something else, he didn’t know. Through observation of the corpses he had discovered the most confusing feature yet: a strange section in the centre of their abdomen that was filled with what seemed to be a grey fluid.
Ahead of him, not skittering away like the rest, was an aphid that no longer emitted a pale green glow. Something whooshed overhead towards the slow and sluggish aphid, and Aaron instinctively threw himself to the ground before he realized what it was. "That's how you get kicked!” He stood up, brushing himself off. “Fuck, that scares the ever-loving shit out of me every fucking time.”
The huge creature looked up at him and whined as it munched on the sick aphid. He was probably imagining the apology in its eyes, but Aaron still shook his head. “I know, I know. It’s your job. They clean the floors, you keep their population healthy. Just stop leaping over me like that, fuck. I’m going to have a heart attack.” It whined and backed away from his angry words, and he tried to keep his voice to calmer tones. “Don’t be like that. I’ve told you enough times.”
When he looked down the corridor again, the retreating corpse vines had disappeared around a corner. Aaron began to jog after them, and after he'd put some distance in he heard the pattering footsteps of his terrifying shadow. He tried to pay it no mind. Once the vines were back in sight he slowed and followed behind them, singing his direction song quietly to himself. “Left, right, straight. Left, left, right. Straight, straight, left, left. Right, right, straight, right, right.”
The ship was massive and, other than some areas smelling funkier than others, there was no variation in lighting, decoration or layout. The song was his map back to the rejuvenation pod, which was his only safe source of hydration. His companion padded along behind him, a friendly nightmare to accompany him on his seemingly endless journey. “We really need to give you a name.” He wished he had his phone with him so he could channel all his nervous energy into making a video. “The audience demands a name. Plus, I won’t be able to sell merch without one.” He turned and looked at the creature. “I’ll probably have to create space-halloween first, or maybe I’ll get lucky and find that you’re cute to some species.”
Aaron returned to following the corpse vine, waving a hand high as he spoke, gesticulating to the heavens. “The name is what matters: a good name makes all the difference.” He began seriously pondering the naming matter. “Aragog, Shelob; you know, lean into your size for a characterization. But then again, that's not really going to make people like you.” He looked back over his shoulder as the unnamed beast trotted happily behind him. He assumed happy, at least. It now tended to make an odd gurgling noise after eating, and it roamed closer to him than before. “You know, I never got to name Sassie – she’s my dog. I told you about her yesterday, or the day before.” He really was losing track of the days he’d been here. “I got her from a rescue. She was skinny, and so damn angry, with scars on her legs and under her fur. I had to have special visits before I could keep her. Prove I was worthy.”
Talking helped take his mind from the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. Hydration and nutrients osmotically obtained from some weird pod were nowhere near as satisfying as a burger and a cold beer. “Her first visit, she had a rubber ball. It was her only possession, and she loved it.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. “Took me an hour before she gave it up to play. The lady from the rescue centre said I was the first.” He choked up, blinking back tears. “Anyway, couple more visits and she got to stay. Crazy dog was such a handful. She once tried to climb a tree to chase a squirrel. Got her legs over the first branch and just dangled, kicking her back legs.” He began chuckling to himself. “She once tried to jump through a car window; some guy was parked at the lights as we walked past.”
He was just chatting now, lost in his memories as he walked. “You know the type, loud radio, windows rolled down on a sunny day, annoying the shit out of everyone in the town. He tossed some litter out of his window and she just launched herself at him. Scared the life out of me at the time - funny as fuck now, of course.” He laughed again. “Then there were the swans. Man, were they not ready. She loved to swim – I told you that before – swimming and splashing was her favourite release. Well, that and chasing rabbits which is, kinda, how I ended up here. Anyway, she would just swim up and down, right past the ducks and stuff, somehow never interested in them. Then one summer these swans came along...” He paused, realising his new friend didn’t know what a duck or a swan was, or even summer, probably. Before attempting to explain, he realised they also didn’t understand english, so it really didn’t matter. “Anyway, swans being belligerent bastards, I called her out of the water straight away. Those mean white fuckers chased her all the way to shore.”
He turned around, now grinning broadly. “But, once her feet hit the ground in the shallow water and she was able to stand, did those sons of bitches turn and swim away as fast as they could.” He paused, trying to remember his original point. He really was very hungry. “Oh yeah, so trying to stop her fighting everything that moved meant I didn’t have time to teach her a new name. Figured it would be confusing to her. Sassie she was, and so Sassie she stayed.”
There was a tightening in his chest as he thought of her missing him. “Took a lot of years and a lot of time for her to get where she is now. I know Alexa will take care of her, but still, it’s my job, and I need to get back to doing it. She won’t understand…” He choked up completely, taking a moment to compose himself before clearing his throat and returning his monologue to its original course. “Anyway, names. Names matter.”
“Maybe you’re a girl monster. Charlotte?” He shook his head. That name just didn’t seem fitting. “We could call you Peter Parker? Although, you’re more of a man-sized spider than a spiderman... Parker Peter? Then again, big, scary spiders say one thing to me. Australia. You like to jump, we could call you Roo? Or, how about Ozzy? Or Bruce? Hmm, that’s a sharks name though… can you swim?”
His train of thought derailed suddenly as he saw an open door ahead of them through which the vines were receding. The pair of them continued walking behind the vine until it disappeared into the doorway and Aaron ran forward, pulling something from his pocket. He’d been saving the foil wrapping from the ration bricks, folding them together to form a wedge. He jammed his makeshift door stop under the bottom corner of the door as it began to slide shut. It ground to a halt. “Boom! Told you it would work.”
He stood and finally looked into the vastness beyond. Through the doors was, somehow, a rolling meadow, complete with trees, giant mushrooms and plants he had no name for. Vines were also everywhere, receding further across the great wilderness. “What the hell? I thought I was on a spaceship? Am I underground?”
Staring intently at the sky, he stepped onto the deep moss beyond the door. He looked at the wall around the interior and saw it was rock, and more plant life clung to every crack and crevice. As he walked slowly forward his eyes followed the vine as it headed for a large, colourful, monolith. He approached and saw that its shape was similar to the vase flowers. He watched as the corpse vines deposited their cargo on top of the monolith. Not on, he corrected himself;they were dropping inside.
He looked back to the door, nervous that it might close and lock him in. A large black shadow lurked just beyond the door, and he was torn. Should he explore this 'outside' world, or retreat to the place where he at least had the rejuvenation pods? He looked up at the sky, basking in the warm and invigorating embrace of the sunlight. He blinked at the brightness, being cautious to not look at the sun directly, and something else suddenly caught his eye. It was, incredibly, a door. A door that floated in the sky.
The thing about human eyes is that they might be easily fooled, but a shift in perspective can easily change what you see to something entirely different. Aaron was looking up at a ceiling, like the one in the Atrium back on the Azrimad, but a hundred times more convincing.
Once back inside the doorway he watched the spiderling he was beginning to think of it as a friend dancing back and forth a short distance away. It seemed… happy. “Ok buddy, I’m back.” Aaron’s stomach made a loud gurgling sound and he rubbed it, trying to squeeze the hunger away. Fingers found muscle easier than usual, and he knew he was definitely losing weight. “We should head back. I need sleep.” He thought for a moment and made a final decision, bending down to pull the foil wedge clear. “I doubt there’s a communicator or command deck in there. Let’s go home, Ozzy.”
The trip back was uneventful, Aaron sang his direction song as they navigated the labyrinth. A few more aphids were snacked on by his leggy companion, but his own legs were heavy by the time he was almost back to the jelly beans. Despite being exhausted he had made two stops to create another pair of flower vases for the aphids, as well as scattering a ration brick as he passed by. The aphids waited, as they always did, till he and Ozzy were far enough away before enjoying his bounty. Still, the human derived satisfaction from their presence.
Exhausted and weary, Aaron was glad to finally make it back to the room he was reluctantly calling his temporary home. As the door to the rejuvenation pod slid open he was met, forcefully, by the barrel of an energy rifle. Unfortunately for Aaron, due to a considerable height difference, the barrel had struck him squarely in the groin, and he instantly fell to his knees. He came face to face with his attacker with tears in his eyes, clutching his tenderness and coughing. From the other being came incomprehensible yelling, as well as a lot of gun waving. Also, there was coughing.
Aaron, eventually mustering enough self-presence to do something other than deal with the after effects of the gun-to-groin encounter, wiped the moisture from his eyes and tried to butt in to the one-sided conversation. "Relax! I'm the one who just got snookered in the fucking balls, here! Why in the world are you so mad?"”
The gun was pressed to his forehead by the tiny attacker, who shouted something unintelligible with their black eyes focused on him. They paused to cough, then stepped back, glaring at Aaron until they seemed to feel comfortable enough with the situation to take one hand off of their weapon and pull out a datapad. They held it up, and Aaron frowned at the familiar but still unintelligible colours that swirled on the screen. Then a small vent at the bottom of the device squirted out a puff of sickly sweet scent.
Aaron pulled back from the odour. "What the fuck was that?"
With some distance between them, the human finally got a good look at his opponent. They were barely waist-height, furry, with a long nose and dark banding across their brown fur. The banding was heaviest across their eyes and although that’s where the similarities ended, it was enough for the human’s brain to forge a connection. “Listen, Rocket, there’s a virus on this ship. You need to get in the jelly bean. Trust me.”
The rifle was thrust at him shakily in one hand, the tablet again was raised and a swirl of colours and shapes greeted him. “I don’t speak fucking winamp plugin!” On the wall behind his captor Aaron spotted a dull orange aphid, struggling to climb the wall. He smiled as he slowly leaned to one side. “Have you met Ozzy?”
The huge arachnid leapt over them both, causing the newcomer to blindfire at the wall. Aaron seized his chance and snatched away the weapon. He grabbed the newcomer by the front of their armoured uniform and slammed them to the ground. They cried out in pain and began their incomprehensible yelling once more. The accompanying coughing fit was bad, and Aaron dragged them to their feet. Realising that his solitude had caused him to revert to English, he switched back to galactic standard to offer a warning about the disease. “You’re going to die!”
A shocked look crossed their face as the human effortlessly lifted them and slam dunked them into a blue jelly bean. Ozzy gurgled happily through his aphid crunching. Aaron snatched up the energy rifle, but found it was difficult to hold due to its small size. He leaned over the jelly bean, noting the occupant drifting off to sleep.
Hunger and tiredness were forgotten as adrenaline flooded his system. There was no way the newcomer was alone. He left the pod room to begin searching, and Ozzy seemed to pick up on his intention and followed behind, keeping close to the human. “Good boy!” He had no idea what prompted it, likely some automated response, and it was as though he watched his movements from outside of his body as he reached back and gently scratched the arachnid's head. He was rewarded with happy gurgles, or at least that's what he hoped the noises were. “You did good back there.”
He made his way along the corridor towards the same airlock he had once chosen as his final exit. His recent suspicion proved correct as he heard a strange sound up ahead, as if someone was running a wet finger around the rim of a glass. He carefully leaned around the curve and saw another figure, dressed in the same uniform as the first. No fur on this one, although they were equally small in size, and they somehow looked like they were made of glass which couldn’t decide on a colour.
This time he remembered to use galactic standard. “Keep your hands where we can see you. We’ve got you surrounded!” The figure was clearly startled, as the ambient resonating noise began varying wildly in pitch at the same moment as their colour shifted to a solid blue. Aaron cursed. He didn’t have a translator, having instead opted for learning standard and winging everything else. The whole federation knew standard, so he hadn’t truly considered getting the implant. “Something is wrong with our translators,” he continued to bluff. “Do you speak galactic standard?”
A datapad was hastily pulled from a pocket, and as buttons were pressed the resonating sound became more rhythmic. From the datapad sprung noises. No, it was a voice! “Why do you speak Procyon? Where is Commander Bertolannixostraphes?
Aaron began relaxing at the situation he found himself in, but inside he was brimming with joy. Finally, he could talk with someone! “There is a virus on this ship, and many are dead. If your commander is the raccoon-looking guy, I got them into a healing pod. They’re going to be fine.” Under his breath he added, “probably.”
The resonating began and shortly afterwards the voice translated, “Who are you? Why did you not answer our communications.”
Opting for honesty in the hopes of leniency, Aaron stepped into view. “I’m a passenger. I don’t have access to the ship's systems.” The newcomer was looking at the tiny gun, so the human tossed it forward. “I didn’t know if you were friendly. I can take you to your friend, and you should probably get treatment as well.”
The now-orange alien walked forward, their movement accompanied by the strange sound of ceramic plates rubbing together. “That won’t be a problem, we Tricinic do not catch meat diseases. I am Tsy'lo, take me to the commander.” They turned to look behind them. “Where are the others?”
Aaron pointed to Ozzy. “It’s just us two.”
Colours swirled and the small glass person thrummed. The datapad spoke, “You are the last human, the Ambassador. Correct?”
Turning and gesturing to be followed, he began to lead the way to the rejuvenation room. “I am the first human, Ambassador Aaron Cooper, professional bounty hunter. Just call me Aaron. Are you the rescue party? Is Alexa here? Did she bring Sassie?”
It took a moment for the translation to come back. “I don’t know those names. We are the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad and we responded to distress calls and found this ship. Adrift.” They had walked a little way when Tsy'lo stopped and regarded Ozzy, who was still faithfully following behind. “Why does the achalo follow you?”
“Ozzy?” Aaron shrugged. “I think he was lonely. So, were you sent into Hive space to find me, or are you on some top secret mission? You aren’t with the Sentinels, are you?”
“Lonely? But it is an achalo.” Tsy'lo was confused and their colour visibly swirled. “Why would a rescue mission be secret? And, we weren’t sent, we were already here.”
Now it was the human who was confused. “Like spies behind enemy lines? Is that why you are in Hive space?”
The Tricinic hummed at a higher frequency. “It is our space. We are the Hive!”
 
 
Admiral Pelar of the third fleet stood in the centre of the training mat. On the floor around her were four tough looking Ashi, while a fifth was now squaring off against her. She blocked the jab and the surprise knee strike that followed, turning effortlessly to bring her elbow to her opponents ribs. With another deft turn she was behind him and kicking his knees forward. He tried to roll clear but she had anticipated the move and, as he rose, her spinning boot struck the side of his head.
“Nice try gentlemen.” She walked away and caught a towel thrown by the drill instructor. “That last one has potential,” she said, and the drill instructor nodded. “Next time, I expect at least one of them to land a hit. If not, I’ll have you in the ring instead, to make sure you still have what it takes.” She saw the fear in his eyes. “I accept nothing but the best from the Third Fleet.”
The medics ran onto the mat as she dabbed at her forehead, and she spotted Jar’Bek sitting on a bench nearby. She walked over to him and he stood, straightening what was no doubt an extremely expensive suit. “From one disappointment to another.”
The lawyer smiled. “Imagine only seeing your son when he is paid to be in your presence,” he countered.
She smirked. “Your tongue is still your most deadly weapon.”
He nodded. “Ah, but it must make you proud to see me make use of the things you taught me.”
Her face twitched. “I taught you to be a true Ashi, a soldier. I taught you to respect-”
Jar’Bek held up his hand. “I’m here on my client’s business, not yours. And, as I am paid a considerable sum per gal, let us not waste their money on matters that are concluded.” He enjoyed the irritation on her face. “I am here to finalise the amnesty treaties, and conclude your membership as citizens of Earth.”
The Admiral held up her hands, looking down at her combat training clothing. “I must shower and change first. Please, wait for me in my private office.” She smiled politely.
“No.” His smile seemed to hover as if it was a mask that could slip at any time. “You may have disowned me, but I still remember your tricks. You knew the time of our meeting; you had me brought here so you could intimidate me with this display of aggression. Then you ask me to wait in your office amongst your memorabilia and trophies.” He watched the anger behind her eyes. “You really think these tired old tricks will work on me?”
She sneered. “At least you remember something.”
“Oh, I had the scars removed, but I kept the lessons.” He walked away. “My client's time is valuable and I have scheduled a meeting with the other fleet Admiral’s for later this cycle. Since we have no time for your games, let us go to the briefing room. My team is already set up. If you wish to shower, know that it is more of your negotiating time you are wasting, and I do so hate waste.” He collected his briefcase and walked out of the room.
Captain Loring hurried after Jar’Bek, catching him as he entered the elevator. “You sure you want to antagonise the Admiral like that?”
He leaned back against the wall of the elevator and relaxed, letting out a small sigh. “A little negotiating trick a Kittran taught me. Anyway, she is no longer my Admiral.”
Elora’Tan leaned back on the opposite wall. “She is your mother, Jar.”
“Ha.” Jar’Bek laughed. “She disowned me. This is the first contact we’ve had in I forget how many celes. Her first thought is to try and intimidate me with that display. She likes to beat on cadets, she likes to cause pain, and she wanted me to watch.”
Loring gave a weak smile. “It forges strong soldiers. We can’t afford weakness.”
The elevator stopped and Jar’Bek took a step closer to Elora’Tan. “You think it was weakness that made me leave?” He didn’t let her answer, turning and exiting into the hallway. His voice now resonated with authority as he growled, “In case you people have forgotten, the Ashi will operate under the same rules as the rest of the colony. My mother is not the law... I am the law.”
 
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I have done extensive research on ALOT of subjects, you could say i am learning everything under the sun and thus have came to the following conclusions:
I understand how your family works, your companies, your routes around the world, and several of your questionable locations and businesses. I want you to come find me, talk to me, I know your out there...
There is this restricted mine town in Elizabeth Bay, that has a Siemens metal bar (industrial) at the mine (picture in link) meaning the company has their hands in a dirty business. Conveniently, there is also a Restricted diamond mining area nearby. We all know about the blood diamonds.. 🩸 💎
According to Wikipedia, "Siemens AG is a German multinational conglomerate company headquartered in Munich and the largest industrial manufacturing company in Europe with branch offices abroad. The principal divisions of the company are Industry, Energy, Healthcare (Siemens Healthineers), and Infrastructure & Cities, which represent the main activities of the company. The company is a prominent maker of medical diagnostics equipment and its medical health-care division, which generates about 12 percent of the company's total sales, is its second-most profitable unit, after the industrial automation division. The company is a component of the Euro Stoxx 50 stock market index.”
The most interesting thing about Siemens is a former Bush Family member, maybe even a president was part of 🤡
Headquarters: Munich, Germany Area served: Worldwide Key people: 1. Jim Hagemann Snabe (Chairman) 2. Joe Kaeser (CEO) 3. Roland Busch!!! (Deputy CEO)
Products: Power generation technology, industrial and buildings automation, medical technology, railway vehicles, water treatment systems, fire alarms, PLM software
Services: Business services, financing, project engineering and construction
Divisions: Smart InfrastructurePower and GasDigital IndustriesHealthineersSiemens MobilitySiemens GamesaIoT ServicesNext 47Siemens Financial Services
According to Wikipedia the founder of Siemens & Halske (original Siemens) was, “Ernst Werner Siemens (von Siemens from 1888; 13 December 1816 – 6 December 1892) who was a German electrical engineer, inventor and industrialist. Siemens's name has been adopted as the SI unit of electrical conductance, the siemens. He founded the electrical and telecommunications conglomerate Siemens.
He is the fourth child (of fourteen) of a tenant farmer of the Siemens family, an old family of Goslar, documented since 1384. He was a brother of Carl Heinrich von Siemens and Carl Wilhelm Siemens.
Parents: Christian Ferdinand Siemens (31 July 1787 – 16 January 1840) and wife Eleonore Henriette Siemens (Deichmann) (1792 – 8 July 1839).”
There seems to be a potential family connection between Eleonore Deichmann and Anna Eleanor Roosevelt (October 11, 1884 – November 7, 1962) and a major connection (marriage) between the Bushes and Eleanors. Coincidence? I don’t believe so... at least one of their families lines, if not both are connected to the Royals and Rothschilds, the same goes for any other individual mentioned in this page.
Prescott Bush was the father of George Herbert Walker Bush and the grandfather of George W. Bush, both future presidents. He helped finance Hitler from America. Due to his funding, his organization was seized in the, “Trading With The Enemy Act of 1942.”
George W. Bush, becomes the 43rd President of the United States in the year 2000. Bush and his family declare they are the ancestors of the House of Plantagenet, whose linage stems from the Royal House of Judah.
Could it be the “Herbert” Walker Bush is really really related to Herbert Simon founder of the original company of, before it was renamed and reestablished as Simon Property Group, Inc./Ltd?
This would mean the Trumps, Bushes, and any other household politically/government affiliated individual are all part of the royal house and share the same “bloodline” and also control/have connections in other countries like Russia/Germany/Italy/England/etc...
They put on “a show” for the general public through the media to make it appear as if there are “issues,” to create chaos in the public, so no one catches on to the reality, which is they a connected family line living in different countries that work together behind the scenes and create problems to mislead to further their own gain. Occasionally, one of the families may become more selfish and double-cross their other family members, but that’s a different story...
Ever wonder why celebrities and Royals have strange or repeating names? Above is why. Conveniently, the last names came be changed through marriage (or even a 2nd/3rd identity) to cover their tracks. 

“ Carl Heinrich von Siemens (often just Carl von Siemens) (3 March 1829 – 21 March 1906).
In 1853, Carl Siemens traveled to St. Petersburg where he established the branch office of his brothers company Siemens & Halske. Siemens had a contract for constructing the Russian telegraph network at the time.
Carl went to England in 1869, where he assisted his brother William. In the 1880s, he returned to Russia before he became the senior chief executive of Siemens & Halske after the death of his brother Werner in 1892. He resigned in 1904. For his service to Russia, he was ennobled by Tsar Nicholas II in 1895.”
Clearly, Siemens, a company headquartered in Germany, but established worldwide, has deep connections with Russia concerning many businesses including power (electricity), communication network, and industrial side...and on top of that the American Bush family has their hands in it, so one could only come to the conclusion every problem ever created is a lie...
Why? It is simply a power struggle between the 5 original Rothschild/Royal families that established themselves worldwide a long time ago. From that point forward they branched out, married their family members from the other countries (to keep the money in family and grow simultaneously).
Eventually we are in today’s time, and they all have different last names and have grown so large you can barley tell them apart. They purposefully “cover” their tracks they best they can...
Trump is also related to the Royals. Near the bottom is more information.
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More deceased family members that established “the electric telecommunications empire.” If you follow the names listed and family lines I’m sure you will find a connection.
His brother: Sir Carl Wilhelm Siemens FRS FRSA (4 April 1823 – 19 November 1883), anglicised to Charles William Siemens, was a German-British electrical engineer and businessman.”
Occupation: Electrical engineer, businessman Known for: Siemens-Martin process Spouse(s): Anne Gordon Parent(s): Christian Ferdinand Siemens and Eleonore Deichmann Relatives: Ernst Werner von Siemens, Carl Heinrich von Siemens, Alexander Siemens
Alexander Siemens (22 January 1847 – 16 February 1928) was a German electrical engineer
Occupation: Engineer Spouse(s): Louisa Dodwell Children: Three daughters Parent(s): Gustav and Sophie Siemens Engineering career Discipline: Civil, Electrical, Institutions Institution of Civil Engineers (president), Society of Telegraph Engineers and Electricians (founder member) Practice: Siemens Brothers Projects: World's first public electricity supply (at Godalming) lamps and cables for the electric industry.
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“John Hopkinson, FRS, (27 July 1849 – 27 August 1898) was a British physicist, electrical engineer, Fellow of the Royal Society and President of the IEE (now the IET). He invented the three-wire (three-phase) system for the distribution of electrical power, for which he was granted a patent in 1882. In 1890 was appointed professor of electrical engineering at King's College London, where he was also director of the Siemens Laboratory.”
(Towards the bottom of this page is the information about the company, who owns it and talks about other connections/info/services).
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I believe Simon Property Group, Inc./Ltd. to be Donald Trump’s ‘The Trump Organization.’
According to Wikipedia, “The Trump Organization is a group of about 500 business entities of which Donald Trump owns. About 250 of these entities use the Trump name.”
That means the other 250 are “under a different name,” Simon Property group perhaps...the Trumps sure do love real estate and investments and Simon Property group sure seems to have a very similar history to the Trump tower almost as though they are the same business just divided into 2 separately names business to confuse you. I honestly can’t blame you...🏥💰☸️ Where’s Simon? Hello 👋 Simon, I know exactly who you are, I found you! ⚖️
“The organization was founded in 1923 by Donald Trump's grandmother, Elizabeth Christ Trump, and his father, Fred Trump, as E. Trump & Son. Donald Trump began leading it in 1971, renamed it around 1973, and handed off its leadership to his children in 2017.”
Areas served: • United States Canada Japan Mexico South Korea Malaysia Thailand Key people: David E. Simon (CEO/Chairman), Herbert Simon (founder), Cowell Simon (More information about these individuals/companies towards end of page.)
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Berkshire Hathaway (founded by Oliver Chase—important! His family relations connect to the others! This same concept applies to any other families/companies mentioned), is currently run by CEO Warren E. Buffett, Charles T. Munger and AJit Jain
According to Wikipedia, “Berkshire now owns a diverse range of businesses including confectionery, retail, railroads, home furnishings, encyclopedias, manufacturers of vacuum cleaners, jewelry sales, manufacture and distribution of uniforms, and several regional electric and gas utilities.”
I want to point out just like the Trump Organization, Semens, and Simons, Berkshire is involved in investments including investments, property, and real estate!!!! Tisk, Tisk, Tisk...
On top of that the company messes with jewels...that can only come from place, the the blood diamond mines or other types of mines (salt/oil/metals/precious stones/etc...) $$$$$ 🙂🙃😉
He also owns a large part of the railroad system (transportation/ports— also used for sex/drug trafficking/transporting goods/etc.) that Berkshire Hathaway owns.
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Let not forget Bill Gates! He owns the American/Canadian railway and when Warren Buffett dies, everything that Warren owns aka Berkshire Hathaway and its companies and railroads will ALL be donated to the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation, giving them control over all the major railways within the US and control over almost all the major businesses and products we buy everyday.
Sounds like a monopoly to me, but whatever, it’s almost kinda amazing how all you guys worked together to create this misleading, heading in the wrong direction “empire”...
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Whomever is reading this and this goes for ANYONE, if you truly want to change how the world works find and hold every individual accountable for their actions that are connected to the hypothetical laws and business empire they have created and yes it’s hypothetically, interpretation and perception of the laws is important... lawyers do it all the time... EVERYONE has a choice, the majority of Individuals “support” the system ONLY, because that’s all they’ve ever known.. since birth it gets ingrained into your head.
Psychology/reverse psychology and the mind is quite a powerful tool that can be easily manipulated, if you understand it that is...
But ultimately, you only have one life and it’s quite fucked to be living on the “Earth Prison” that the whole population is responsible for creating in today’s world. Like wtf? You can’t do anything anymore, fuck that! And yes, it’s equally everyone’s fault. The Elites for creating this “chaotic prison world” to further their plans that fit their needs only... and the rest of Earth’s general population who follows every word you say, like the good dogs they are. I’m sorry, but it’s true... and that’s why they should not be held accountable, unless of course someone “chooses” to take it into their own hands for whatever reason they have..I’m sure once the full truth is finally revealed many individuals will be shocked and very angry... who knows where that may lead, some won’t care, and others knew it was coming all along...
The golden rule, “Treat others, how you would want to be treated.”
The US constitution is unconstitutional. I stand by this.It does not define what it specifically means by “principle.” Aka it’s values. It merely states the individual principles as a whole aka “our bill of rights” and defines laws under them, but not once defines, what specific “principle” they ment... this means I can interpret it how I like, regardless of how many laws there are, bc they did not specify which definition of the word “principles” they meant. It can have several definitions and meanings, so how do I know how to properly interpret it? It doesn’t specify.... It’s all an “act” just like all the “bills” they write... What would the puppet show be without it right?
Listed below is how the hypothetically true “money/drug/sex-traffic/electricty, water, land, and other laundering businesses” are connected.
I have thought about this for a very long time, I have studied them, and put myself if their shoes...I try to be as fair as possible, though the families and companies listed below are all connected (marriage/2nd identity bc of incest and/or trying to hide, what the publicly traded companies really are [Fortune 500, for example] that everyone [general public] supports by working foin/or against the system.
Yes, some of these individuals are guilty of horrendous crimes including mass genocide, but that’s okay, I’ve decided, as long as they break their evil system down and convert it into a positive system that truly works in favor of the people instead of Exploiting the whole world and storing children and animals in shipping containers? Like wtf is that shit? Are you not ashamed of yourselves? Is greed worth it? A black soul and heart... I am the soul collector and I am coming for you! Neither good nor bad, I hear the screams I hear the prayers and the rituals, I hear the true desires...And yes, I am fully aware you know that I know... so here is my reply. And don’t get me wrong if anyone else has a valid reason as to how you harmed them,and they decide to come for you, remember it’s their choice and it was also your choice to harm them in whatever way...the golden rule, I say!
I hope whomever is part of this... I can teach you, to convert the negative into positive... I have many plans to share...
I understand the structure and something or someone will always be greater and it’s equal will always be the lesser. They are the same just a different perspective... The structure needs to be turned inside out and needs to be rearranged.
Everyone and Everything can easily be categorized. In simple terms this is what Algorithms are. I call it the chaotic pattern...The Alpha algorithm or what I’m assuming is the main quantum computer that combines the ALL separate individuals’ data on Earth (mini algorithm), information everyone freely gives out everyday without thinking twice about it, into a super algorithm that could potentially “predict” the future and make “plans” based on all this knowledge and data collected as to how humans behave, what they buy, live, etc.. into a nice chart that could potentially be followed...
I understand that most of were born into this pre-established family business and were breed to continue the traditions... it’s normal that’s just how it’s always been... That’s why your family is not necessarily guilty even though at the same time you are, bc you kept pushing the agenda knowing what was really happening behind the scenes.
I guess everyone part of your family or any of the associated business owned by many individuals are lucky that they are not stuck in shipping containers, sex trafficking, 🩸 Diamond mines, drugs, laundering, etc.... imagine being on the opposite end of the spectrum...
Why not use your power and money for the light good instead of the shadow of evil. Negative energy collects and feeds in ways that you don’t for-see.
I see the whole spectrum even the electro-magnetic frequency rays force behind it all. Adam the first living universal Atom spark that created the universes lives within me... I see everything on the spectrum. It’s a blessing and a curse. The  fibonacci curse and the curse of 3s... I see ALL the forms of 3s.
Below are questionable companies responsible for horrendous crimes and individuals who are connected to one another usually by marriage or birth... All the information below stems from different Wikipedia sites (sources). There are many more companies and people involved I did not mention. But I see you Simpsons, Burns, i see who Hitler really was it’s not like he is really someone’s father...🙃, Stewie, and so many others 🧐 I see you ALL!!!! Hello Rothschilds! I’ve studied your family tree extensively, I see all the different names used for the same people to hide the incest. You should be proud, without it, you could have never built this empire.
I would bet your whole kingdom that, I share your bloodline, I too am from Rheinland-Pfalz, marked the female bear born on the half moon 🌓 I truly miss it, but bc of your “vaccine plan” I probably will never be able to travel there again, since I do not trust a vaccine whose long-term effects are not known.
It’s not like the military gave my dad a shot that gave him progressive supranuclear palzy years later, he’s the youngest person to ever “get this disease” in the world...they studied him at Harvard. I don’t trust it. Why would I? It destroyed his life! From the bottom of my heart, whomever is responsible for giving all the soldiers shots containing different diseases in the 80s and early 90s, FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! That’s why I hate the world system so much and refuse to support it.
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Wikipedia states about Simon Inc./Ltd: "Simon Property Group, Inc. is an American commercial real estate company, one of the largest retail real estate investment trusts (REIT), and the largest shopping mall operator in the US.
The company operates five retail real estate platforms: regional malls, premium outlet centers, The Mills, community/lifestyle centers and international properties.
It owns or has an interest in more than 204 properties of gross leasable area in North America and Asia. The company is headquartered in Indianapolis, Indiana, and employs more than 5,000 people."
Simon Property Group, Inc. has served these: United States Canada Japan Mexico South Korea Malaysia Thailand
According to Wikipedia a: "Commercial property, also called commercial real estate, investment property or income property, is real estate (buildings or land) intended to generate a profit, either from capital gains or rental income.
Commercial property includes: office buildings, medical centers, hotels, malls, retail stores, multifamily housing buildings, farm land, warehouses, and garages. In many states, residential property containing more than a certain number of units qualifies as commercial property for borrowing and tax purposes.
Commercial buildings are buildings that are used for commercial purposes, and include: office buildings, warehouses, and retail buildings (e.g. convenience stores, 'big box' stores, and shopping malls). In urban locations, a commercial building may combine functions, such as offices on levels 2-10, with retail on floor 1."
Wikipedia states: "A real estate investment trust (REIT) is a company that owns, and in most cases operates, income-producing real estate. REITs own many types of commercial real estate, ranging from office and apartment buildings to warehouses, hospitals, shopping centers, hotels and commercial forests. Some REITs engage in financing real estate."
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Founders of Simon Inc.: Melvin Simon and Herbert Simon
• Simon Founder: Melvin Simon (October 21, 1926 – September 16, 2009) Spouse(s): Wife 1. Bess Meshulam born: née Meshulam-(divorced)
Wife 2. Bren Burns
Children: 5 including: 1. David E. Simon (with Bess) 2. Cindy Simon (with Bess) 3. Cowell Simon? 4.? 5.? Relatives:Paul Skjodt (son-in-law)
• Founder Melvins son: David E. Simon (born 1961/1962) is an American billionaire real estate developer, chairman and chief executive officer (CEO) of Indianapolis-based Simon Property Group, an S&P 500 company and the largest U.S. publicly traded real estate company. Net worth US$1.0 billion (2017) Spouse(s): Jacqueline Freed (1986) Children: 5 Relatives: Melvin Simon (Father) Paul Skjodt: (brother-in-law)
• Simon Founder; Herbert "Herb" Simon (born October 23, 1934) is an American real estate developer. Spouses: 3 Children: 10 --two with first wife --three with Meyer --two with Nakhirunkanok --three adopted children Parent(s): Max Simon Mae Simon Family: Melvin Simon (brother)
Wife 1: Shelia Simon 1. Sheila Simon (divorced)-2 kids including Stephen Howard Simon, founder of Simon Equity LLC, (married Catherine Garvey Simon)
Wife 2: Diane Meyer Simon (born Diane Irene Meyer). She is the former wife of Indiana real estate billionaire Herbert Simon. Diane Meyer (divorced)-3 kids. She was the political staffer for Senator Birch Bayh.
They have 3 kids: 1. Sarah Elisabeth Meyer Simon- an investor who lives in New York City

1. Rachel Mariam Meyer Simon Stuart- is living in Indianapolis with her husband Hale Stuart and daughter Zara
   
2. Asher Benjamin Meyer Simon.
   

Wife 3: He married to Bui Simon in 2002 (born Porntip Nakhirunkanok) in Thailand (February 7, 1969--51 years old) Children: 2?
Paul Skjodt (born June 28, 1958) is an American-Canadian businessman, and former ice hockey player.
In 1987, he married Cindy Simon, the daughter of Melvin Simon and Bess Simon. They have 3 children: 1. Erik 2. Samantha 3. Ian
Relatives: Melvin Simon (father-in-law) David Simon: (brother-in-law)
I'm pretty sure Cindy Simon is really Sara J. Bloomfield the director of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, since Cindy and her husband are the "founders."
Wikipedia states, "The Trump Organization is a group of about 500 business entities of which Donald Trump is the sole or principal owner. About 250 of these entities use the Trump name.
The organization was founded in 1923 by Donald Trump's grandmother, Elizabeth Christ Trump, and his father, Fred Trump, as E. Trump & Son. Donald Trump began leading it in 1971, renamed it around 1973, and handed off its leadership to his children in 2017.
The Trump Organization, through its various constituent companies and partnerships, has or has had interests in: real estate development, investing, brokerage, sales and marketing, and property management.
Trump Organization entities own, operate, invest in, and develop: residential real estate, hotels, resorts, residential towers, and golf courses in various countries.
They also operate or have operated in: construction, hospitality, casinos, entertainment, book and magazine publishing, broadcast media, model management, retail, financial services, food and beverages, business education, online travel, commercial and private aviation and beauty pageants.
Trump Organization entities also own the New York television production company that produced the reality television franchise The Apprentice.
Retail operations include or have included: fashion apparel, jewelry and accessories, books, home furnishings, lighting products, bath textiles and accessories, bedding, home fragrance products, small leather goods, vodka, wine, barware, steaks, chocolate bars, and bottled spring water."
Donald John Trump (born June 14, 1946) Children 5 with Spouse(s): 3
Wife 1: Ivana Zelníčková (m. 1977; div. 1992)​ was born on February 20, 1949, in the Moravian city of Zlín, Czech Republic (Gottwaldov, Czechoslovakia) and is the daughter of Miloš Zelníček (1927–1990) and Marie Zelníčková (née Francová).
Children: 3 1. Donald Trump Jr. 2. Ivanka Trump 3. Eric Trump
Wife 2: Marla Maples ​(m. 1993; div. 1999)​
Wife 3: Melania Knauss ​(m. 2005)​
Parents of Trump: Fred Trump Mary Anne MacLeod
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Amschel Moses Rothschild was born in about 1710. He was a German Jewish silk trader and money changer in the Judengasse (Jewstreet) in Frankfurt. Around 1743 he placed a red hexagram sign (which numerically and geometrically convert into the number 666) above the entrance of his door. His house was also red in color.
Within two centuries, the Rothschild, instructed this hexagram sign to be made part of the Israeli flag 🇮🇱. He had 8 children with Schönche Lechnich, one of his sons, Mayer Amschel Rothschild (1744-1812), is the founder of the Rothschild banking dynasty. He marries Guttle SchnappeSchönche Lechnich (Rothschild) in 1770, and they have 10 children together.
In 1776, Mayer Amschel Rothschild creates the Illuminati and hands over the organizations development to Adam Weishaupt. Weishaupt sneaks in the Continental Order of Freemasons with this Illuminati doctrine. This doctrine claims a new order for the human race under the dictatorship of Satan and his supporters. This view is accepted and spread like a wildfire and is pursued in Masonic Lodges worldwide to this day.
In 1777, Nathan Mayer Rothschild is born, who is followed by Kalmann (Carl) Mayer Rothschild/Carl Mayer Freiherr von Rothschild in 1788. Carl is the founder of the Rothschild banking family of Naples. He had child named Adolf Carl....
Edmond James de Rothschild (Baron Abraham Edmond Benjamin James de Rothschild) has a son named Maurice de Rothschild. (Notice the name “Baron”...).
Adolf Hitler is really Maurice de Rothschild with fake beard and hair piece and carries out his father’s (Edmond James de Rothschild) work. Since the war caused a sugar shortage, Maurice would have also been the candy man aka Willy Wonka with his Cain top hat 🎩
Adolf HitleMaurice de Rothschild also has another name, which I believe to be Fred Trump, making trump his son... The pictures look to comparable... Anne (Anna), Mary, Maria, and Christ seems to be a shared motherly name between the Rothschild family history, Trumps, and Hitler.... (if you look up hitlers mom, it’s clearly a fake-photoshopped image). Also notice Trump’s youngest son is named “Barren.”
One must remember it is very easy to put misinformation out there, that includes changing names/birthdays/ and “events” that happened in their lives. Usually the birthdays are around the same years or don’t fully mention the full birthday for one individual, a lot of names also seem to repeat, which could be considered another clue towards the truth.
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Baron Abraham Edmond Benjamin James de Rothschild (19 August 1845 – 2 November 1934) was a French member of the Rothschild banking family. A strong supporter of Zionism, his large donations lent significant support to the movement during its early years, which helped lead to the establishment of the State of Israel, where he is simply known as "the baron Rothschild".
Nationality: French Spouse(s): Adelheid von Rothschild (m. 1877)​ Children: 3 1. James Armand de Rothschild 2. Maurice de Rothschild 3. Alexandrine de Rothschild
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“Maurice Edmond Karl de Rothschild (19 May 1881 – 4 September 1957) was a French art collector, vineyard owner, financier and politician. He was born into the Rothschild banking family of France.”
Spouse(s): Noémie Halphen ​(m. 1909)​ Children : Edmond Adolphe de Rothschild (b. 1926)
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“Edmond Adolphe Maurice Jules Jacques de Rothschild or Baron Edmond de Rothschild (born 30 September 1926 in Paris, France – deceased 2 November 1997 in Geneva, Switzerland) was a French-Swiss banker, the founder of the Edmond de Rothschild Group in 1953. His investments extended to vineyards, yacht racing, farming and hospitality.”
Spouse(s): 1. Veselinka Vladova Gueorguieva ​(m. 1958⁠–⁠1960)​ (1 child—Trump?!?) 2. Nadine de Rothschild (m. 1963)​ (Trump’s sister ?) Children: Benjamin de Rothschild (b. 1963)
🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽🗽
The pictures are linked below and in the comments, due to this being reddit I can’t show all the pics or the potential routes.
https://imgur.com/gallery/ViO5cEL
As Lil Wayne said, —“I am ill not sick
Nobody gives you a chance, you gotta take chances Your family tree, I will break branches Cause I don't give a fuck, I put the ass in assassin Smoke you like a blunt then it's ashes to ashes The future is born, put the past in the casket If real shit is dead then nigga I'm a bastard Uh, appetite for disaster I want a full plate then another plate after
Gorillas in suits The holy war, the spiritual troops Fighting over the mythical truth Drowning in the political soup They shoot missiles and nukes Taking out such a pivotal group The body count is the physical proof And they thought drugs were killing the youth (ha, ha, ha, ha) Thank you, Thank you all
I am president Carter”