that we shall hold less, a small sell-off won’t matter. No one has a block
of stock that can compete with our holdings or we would have heard of it, and
certainly no one person has enough to claim a lordship on the council.”
“But our
dividends will diminish as well,” Hemming said. “We have a certain living
standard to maintain.”
“You’re both
being ridiculous,” Randol said.
“We won’t
have any dividends at all if we keep losing money,” Oke said. “This gives us a
chance to reinvest, and it buys some time to eliminate Thorne. Hopefully, when
the company recovers we’ll be receiving larger dividends than we do now, even
with fewer shares.”
“Interesting,”
Hemming said. “How much are you proposing?”
“Perhaps a
five percent block from each of us. Does that sound acceptable?” Oke
said.
“You want us
to give up fifteen percent of the corporation?” Randol said. “Are you insane? With
the outstanding shares already out there, that would leave us owning less than fifty
percent of the corporation. Utter stupidity.”
Oke turned red. “Lord Randol,
there is no reason to be insulting. It’s a reasonable suggestion. Although the
stock may be out there, it is dispersed among throngs of minor investors. There
is no credible threat to our authority.”
“This sounds like an excellent opportunity,” Maxwell said. “A
massive influx of capital would solve many of our problems.”
Randol glared at him. “Director Maxwell, please limit your
comments to the subject of your expertise, which is simply security. You are
not a lord and have no right to an opinion on this matter.”
“Please accept my abject apologies, Lord Randol. I meant no
offense.” Maxwell lowered his eyes and bowed to him.
“Lord Oke, when you have more information, we’ll discuss
this further,” Hemming said. “Until then, is there any other business to discuss?
I have a hunt to attend.”
Helen Randol
sat before the information terminal in her cabin aboard the Aurelius and
examined her schedule yet again. It seemed that she was destined for the next
two years to be saddled with a never-ending series of classes consisting
primarily of useless material.
It was well
understood that as the only daughter of a lord, and therefore a future lady
herself, Helen did not need to bother with a formal education in order to live
extravagantly. However, if she wanted to one day lead the corporation rather
than simply be a leech who drained the coffers of her apportioned share, she
knew she’d have to apply herself to her education.
Her father
took such things seriously, and so did she, which made it doubly frustrating to
see the litany of worthless courses such as Rigelian Comparative Anthropology. Could
they actually be serious? How would that be of any use in running the affairs
of a corporation?
She turned
off the course schedule and chose some music. Soft blues tones filled the
cabin. She lay down on her bunk and sighed. She stared through the viewport
next to the bed into the darkness. She dimmed the lights in the room until the
fainter stars became visible.
She would
endure her time at the university. She would suffer the pompous nattering of
her fellow students as they went about their daily nonsense, the vacant
flattery of those trying to win her favor, and the machinations of those trying
to rise on the social scale by bringing her down. She would endure it because
of her father. She needed to be strong to take her place in the corporation so
she could prevent it from falling under the influence of idiots like Oke and
his ilk once her father was too old to continue.
Ever since
Helen’s mother died, she had tried to take care of her father, and she had learned
early on that the best way she could do so was by learning how to succeed him. The
corporate world was brutal, and it had taken its toll on him over the years. He
had survived buyout and takeover attempts, controversy and treachery. But the
biggest
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