"What?" He asked, as it was the only word, the only thought in his mind, apart from, "Why?"
His mind caught up with the conversation; Trey said it was to grant both protection and privilege. He'd said that he felt he owed Hunter a debt. But was it this big of a debt? Did Hunter even want this?
"There are some pragmatic elements which I'm taking into consideration here," Trey said, holding up a finger. "First; if it weren't for the Council's interest in you, I'd have offered this from the very start. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a godson. That your father was the best friend is something I've been trying to sell you on for this entire conversation. He helped shape me, and therefore the company that I run."
He held up two fingers.
"Second; this is the most simple solution for both of us. The family gains a talented artisan, and you gain both the protection and the opportunities that you deserve. But my position can sometimes make the most simple solutions into the most dangerous and impractical. Now that you've proven yourself as a remarkable potential asset, the corporation would be justified in bringing you on board."
He held up a third finger.
"Third; once you're part of this family, it would allow me to extend the second part of my offer, which aligns with your goal."
Hunter was on the edge of his seat.
"The grand prize of the competition was the Oberon Corporations' official sponsorship to Barnum Academy of Excellence. Corporations get a few sponsorship options each year. The more powerful the corporation, the more sponsorship spots they earn. How much do you understand about the Barnum Academy of Excellence?"
"Not a lot," Hunter said. "I know it's supposed to be one of the best schools in the world."
"You're on the right track," Trey said with a nod. "If not in quality of education, it is the considered the most valuable for the sheer prestige of attending. Most of the previous Council Seats have graduated from, or have a board stacked full of, Barnum alumna. Barnum has a grading system similar to other schools, but they award degrees of Excellence for those who distinguish themselves during their studies. These degrees mean a mark of prestige for whichever corporation or family has sponsored the recipient. The amount of Excellence-recipients a corporation has is an indicator of not only their current status, but their future potential — which is more than a shallow measure, I assure you."
He took another sip of coffee. Hunter followed suit — not that he needed it anymore. The entire conversation had been an emotional rollercoaster, and instead of exhaustion, he was feeling electrified.
"A perennial series of petty competitions has engaged every corporation and council member since the council began. The measure of Excellence is one way of gauging how we compare to our rivals. And, Hunter, there are always more pissing tests."
Trey sighed and paused for a moment.
"An emerging market or a new twist on an old one, greater feats of engineering, establishing more outworld outposts, the list goes on. In the last few generations, Oberon Enterprises has had to change itself in order to adapt to the new world and ensure that our stream flies further than all the rest."
He grabbed another picture on his desk, turning it so that Hunter could see. An old man, grey-haired, with an easy-going smile.
"My father. Much to my grandfather's dismay, father found the most success in the corporation's security department. He thrived in the military. Upon inheriting leadership of the company, he restructured it, giving himself sole decision-making authority. He believed that a board and a man can make similar decisions given the same intelligence resources. What mattered most were the people who executed those decisions," Trey said, the topic seeming to fill him with passion.
"What matters most is a shared vision and a willingness to not just follow, but execute orders to the best of one's ability. The threat of consequences for breeching their contract isn't enough to keep an employee loyal. To thrive in this brave new world, you must appeal to both current and future employees and their families. Desirability is key to survival. That means you need to provide security, vision, and a means to achieve that vision. They need to believe in me, and the company as an extension of me."
Hunter understood.
"And by filling your ranks with Excellence-recipients, you gain more marks of prestige, and your employees gain some certainty that the company has a bright future ahead," Hunter said.
"Not just the company, but themselves as well," Trey corrected. Hunter nodded.
"Securing their own future," he said.
"Exactly," Trey said, "so a company needs to spend their sponsorship slots wisely. There are only so many degrees of Excellence handed out every year, and the competition is fierce. That's why we offered the winning team the opportunity to enrol at Barnum. It would mean a much brighter future for themselves, and they would each have a chance of earning Excellence for the corporation. Their acceptance will fill all the corporation's sponsorship slots."
He paused for a few seconds, and Hunter assumed it was purely for dramatic effect.
"However, they don't only offer sponsorship slots to corporations," he said.
"Right," Hunter said, as he realized the implication, "you mentioned that both corporations and families receive sponsorship slots."
Trey nodded.
"How many sponsorship slots are available for a family?" Hunter asked, wondering if his intuition about where the conversation was heading was correct.
His hands were still shaking. It was just excitement, it was anxiety.
"Families only get one per year," Trey said.
"Hold on," Hunter said. "What about your daughter? Isn't she some sort of prodigy? Why wouldn't you offer it to her?"
Trey nodded, a proud smile on his face.
"Indeed, she is a prodigy, in a sense. Her AR has just passed the mid 40s. She's proven to be quite adept with martial arts, and her academic performance has been phenomenal."
If Hunter remembered correctly, she'd be around his age, give or take a year. Hunter was 16 this year. Even gifted individuals would only reach 40 AR in their mid-20s.
Hunter whistled.
Trey seemed amused at Hunter's response. "Barnum extended her a personal sponsorship, so the Oberon family's sponsorship slot is still available. We can't give it to just anyone. They have to be a member of the Oberon family."
"And so you want me to go," Hunter said.
"Yes," Trey said, "I will be honoured to have you alongside my daughter, representing the Oberon family. Oh," Trey said, his smile growing even wider. "And that's not all."
He took another sip of his coffee.
"If you perform well, I will fund and supply your own personal workshop and lab. The company will employ you, but you will have very minor obligations to the company in return. If you perform so well as to earn Excellence, I will select you for outworld training and give you a spot on the ship or outworld destination of your choice. How does that sound?"
Hunter's hands shook. He fought the urge to accept the offer immediately.
"What about the results of my research, and things that I invent?" Hunter asked. Trey nodded.
"Reasonable concerns, of course. What would be the use of having such a mind as yours if we didn't full use it? You will have access to any research project that you find interesting — but the results will be owned by the company. However, anything you develop outside of those obligations will, of course, be yours to do with as you wish. I only ask that if you ever decide to share your private work with the public, that you'll consider the family and the company first. We would offer you a more generous deal than you'd get anywhere else, guaranteed."
Hunter nodded. He could accept that. In fact, the whole thing seemed to benefit him. It was almost too good to be true.
Despite all the reasons he'd initially found to distrust Trey, he needed to face the facts.
Yes, Trey was a businessman.
But he was also being transparent about it.
He promised Hunter complete privacy. If Hunter had secrets, he didn't have to share them, and a generous deal awaited him if he decided to reveal what he knew.
But what was to hold Trey to his end of the deal? Even as he considered the question, Hunter wondered if he was being fair to the man.
Could he afford not to take this risk? Every risk he'd taken recently seemed to pay off in unexpected ways. Attaching the Oberon's name to his own was to everyone's benefit. He'd be tying his fate to Oberon Enterprises, but he was being given a tremendous amount of freedom. It was a better deal than he'd expected.
To twist Trey's own phrase, he would be remiss in his duties to himself if he let this opportunity pass him by. It was the perfect solution to his problems, as far as he could see. And if it wasn't perfect, it was as close as he would get.
"Deal," Hunter said, holding out his hand. With a big grin, Trey took the hand and shook it.
"Excellent! Welcome to the family," Trey said. "You won't regret it."
---
Hunter Oberon Koar.
He'd never had a middle name before.
He was still and always will be, Hunter Koar. At first, he thought that maybe the Koar name should come before Oberon. But keeping his first and last name the same felt more appropriate to him. Trey agreed to his request to honour his last name.
So long as he carried the Oberon's name, its placement didn't matter.
They signed and submitted the official paperwork proving his inclusion in the family. For most, the process would take a few days for the corporate machine to process such a registration. But a council seat didn't have to wait for approval. By the time his new bodyguard dropped him off at the hotel, Mrs. Verilion called to inform him that she had officially filed the paperwork.
It was done.
One of the world's most powerful families had adopted him as an heir to their fortune.
This wasn't even close to what he'd expected when he'd first signed up for the preliminary test in Seckina. For a moment, he wondered if this constituted a betrayal of himself or his father. But he reasoned it wasn't. This was pure business—a mutual scratching of backs. Being an Oberon was a means to an end.
He only owed them his hard work. In return, he'd receive academy enrollment, social elevation, and limitless future prospects.
It was an incredible deal.
He'd returned to the hotel suite to gather his belongings, humming to himself. Being assigned a bodyguard was something he was still coming to terms with. The constant presence felt simultaneously reassuring and constricting. He hadn't realized how much he enjoyed his privacy now that he had to sacrifice it for the sake of safety.
It was still dawning on him, just what becoming an Oberon meant.
He almost regretted accepting Trey's offer, because he knew soon he would be the centre of more attention that he'd ever wanted. He'd had a certain level of visibility when he was younger, before his father died — the infamous Gideon Koar was a household name. So he knew what to expect.
Hunter had a sister now. He wondered what she was like. The best-case scenario was that she had inherited Trey's more personable qualities. The worst-case scenario was that she was a typical rich brat who cared about nothing more than what you could do for her, specifically for her image and personal ambitions. In which case, he would find every excuse to ignore her and get on with his life. He hoped that they'd get along; she would be an invaluable ally at Barnum if he was right about the people he'd been attending the academy with.
He hoped that having the Oberon name attached to his own would go a long way in warding off the negative attention he'd grown used to from the silver-spoon-fed.
Hunter would move into the Oberon mansion until the term at Barnum started in a couple of weeks. He requested a workbench installation in his room, but someone informed him he didn't need permission. An elderly gentleman named Stewart, who managed the Oberon mansion staff, introduced himself to him. Hunter need only inform Stewart about anything he would need at the house, and it would be Stewart's job to ensure that Hunter received it.
So he informed Stewart that he would need the workbench, as well as a steady supply of etherium batteries and easy access to a battery charger. Hunter almost expected Stewart to wince and protest at some point, but the man nodded and told Hunter to give him a few days to complete his task. In the meantime, Hunter would stay in a guest-room.
With nothing else to do, Hunter decided he might as well move what meager belongings he'd left at the hotel over to the estate. As Hunter was packing his things back at the hotel, he realized that he'd never visited the museum. Instead of regretting it, he exercised some of his newfound freedom and informed his new bodyguard of their pending trip.
The bodyguard's name was Syler, 'but my friends' call me Sly,' he'd said. Although Hunter was uncertain about how to feel about having a bodyguard around, he already liked Sly on a personal level. Sly was bald and appeared to be in his late 20s or early thirties. He was clean shaven and had grey eyes. Even ithough at that moment the totality of his job was to guard the door of Hunter's hotel suite, Sly maintained a focus and discipline that Hunter admired. The man was sharp and took his task seriously.
Sly only nodded when Hunter told him they were going to visit the museum, and he brought Hunter down to their assigned car. It wasn't anything as impressive as a Kellese, but still Hunter savoured the fact that he had a personal car and a personal driver. They could have walked, as it wasn't too far away, but Sly told him that driving was not only faster, but far safer.
Although he would have anonymity for the next few days, soon the Oberon family would announce their newest member. He wanted Hunter to get used to doing things a bit differently than normal.
Hunter had noticed an increase in the amount of law enforcement agents walking the streets, not just outside of the hotel, but by the museum as well. He'd asked Sly if he'd told anyone they were going to the museum, but Sly shook his head. Hunter noticed police cars every few blocks.
Why was he seeing so many today?
"It was the attack a few days ago," Sly said after making a call to a friend. Sly's voice had a raspy quality — an undercurrent of smoke, as if he was forcing each word out. "Abolitionists set off a car bomb, and claimed that the Council Capital will no longer be safe, yada-yada. If they ever attacked anything but targets of opportunity in the most under-guarded territories, maybe we'd have something to worry about. The increased law enforcement is there for the public's sake, if you ask me."
"Was anyone hurt?" Hunter asked. Sly nodded.
"A few dead, a few wounded, and most of them were the abolitionists themselves. These terrorists have shown only a mild concern for their own lives. If another attack occurs, the best-case scenario is that we contain the damage."
Sly's tone, when mentioning the damage, was so nonchalant it was as if he was discussing the weather. Hunter suddenly wondered if visiting the museum was the right choice.
"Should we go back to the hotel?" Hunter asked.
"It's your call, boss."
Hunter considered the problem. He still wanted to visit the museum, just to see it one more time. Barnum was an entire continent away. It would be a while before he'd be able to come back here. He decided he'd compromise.
The abolitionists wouldn't attack twice in the same day, especially after announcing their threat. They required time to guarantee their next assault would succeed. It seemed logical to presume that the museum would be secure, particularly given the heightened law enforcement presence.
"I think I'd still like to check the museum out. Just for a little while."
Sly nodded. If he disapproved of Hunter's choice, he didn't show it.
Hunter felt that this visit to the museum was important. Seeing his father and Trey holding their necklaces in that photograph, it birthed a strong desire to see the ancient past the same way his father had seen it. He wasn't interested in ancient history, but Trey's description of the necklaces intrigued him.
Power, a glimpse beneath the surface. That was his relationship with etherium, wasn't it? He felt etherium in a way that no one else did. It was an ability which was unique to himself. He'd been called a genius, but he wasn't smarter than anyone else was. He just had a way of feeling into something that others couldn't.
Why? Why him? It was a question that didn't seem to have an answer.
Self knowledge. Truth. Hunter wondered if the Asutnahem knew something that he hadn't. Maybe his father's interest in the ancient people's hadn't just been academic.
Maybe Hunter wouldn't just find a deeper connection with his departed father, but with himself as well.