Int.—Boardroom

P.R. Executive 1: We think it’s so great that you’ve been taking an interest in humanitarian aid, sir.

Executive 2: How you tried to help those Thai children? You’re a visionary and a saint.

Executive 3: We did want to debrief, after the fact, and point out that another way to contribute to future causes you care about might be to—

Elon Musk: Build an itty-bitty teeny-tiny child-size submarine? I did that already.

E1: Right, no, that was very cool.

E3: So cool.

E2: And we’re sure it’s going to come in handy over there in the future.

E3: We just thought that another way to help people might be . . . money?

View more

(A beat. Elon Musk’s eyes narrow.)

E1: Like when you told everyone about your A.C.L.U. donations! We loved that.

E2: That looked great for you.

E3: We just want a little more of that and a little less of . . . tiny submarines that can potentially, someday, also be used as space escape pods.

Musk: I hear what you’re saying. Loud and clear, guys. And I have two words for you: Humor. Magazine.

E3: Um. I’m not sure th—

Musk: I’m Elon. Nice to meet you, Notsure. (He smirks.)

E3 (coughs): Very funny, sir. Your comedy lessons are really paying off.

E1: Let’s put aside your humanitarian efforts for now. We also wanted to clear up some of the public confusion about your political philosophy.

E3: Right. We were a little surprised, a while back, when you tweeted that you consider yourself a socialist.

Musk: Why?

E2: Well, it’s just that, uh, usually that word refers to . . . (He glances warily at his co-workers.)

E3 (whispering): Democratic ownership over the means of production.

Musk: Well, that wasn’t how I was using the word.

E1 (stepping protectively in front of Executive 3): Of course, Mr. Musk. And we understand that. Obviously, as a visionary, and an American, you have the right to use words to mean whatever you want them to mean—

Musk: Thank you, that’s correct.

E1: But it just might be more effective if you used the words according to their generally and widely accepted meanings?

(A long pause.)

Musk: I don’t follow.

E2: We’re just saying, you know, you have this billion-dollar company, you’re interested in profits, there’s no shame in admitting that you’re a capitalist.

Musk: No, no—Marx was a capitalist.

E3: Are you trolling us right now? Is he trolling us?

(Musk winks.)

E3: This is pointless.

Musk: Guys, guys, guys, c’mon. My politics are extremely straightforward. I’m a socialist in the manner of Iain Banks.

E2: But Iain Banks was pro-union!

(A large hole opens in the floor beneath Executive 2’s seat, and he disappears into a Hyperloop tube headed for O’Hare International Airport.)

Musk: Socialism, to me, means that, once Earth is uninhabitable, I get to decide who lives and who dies, because I have the capital. Is that easy enough for you to understand?

(The executives nod, terrified.)

Musk: And, if my employees don’t like working for twenty-four hours straight in conditions where they might get run over by a forklift because I disabled the alarm sound that forklifts make when they back up because I don’t like beeping noises, then they can quit.

E3: Of course, sir.

Musk: It’s like I always say: Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime.

E1: Absolutely, Mr. Musk—

Musk: I wasn’t finished. Send a man to Mars, he finds and farms a new kind of fish, a space fish, that sustains him beyond the regular human life span.

(Silence descends on the boardroom.)

Musk: Are you writing this down?

(The executives look at each other nervously. Executive 1 very slowly picks up a pen.)

E1 (writing): Immortality . . .

Musk: Via space fish.

E1: Via . . . space fish.

Musk: Of course, it doesn’t matter if you write it down or not, because it’s in the code of the simulation. (He waves his hand vaguely to indicate the whole room.)

E1: Well, that’s usually a sign that we should wrap up.

E3: Thanks for your time, Mr. Musk.

(The executives begin to exit.)

E1: Is the space fish a metaphor, or an actual type of fish?

E3: I’m not sure.

Musk: Bye, Notsure!

(The executives chuckle half-heartedly as they leave. Elon Musk stays in the boardroom, giggling to himself, for two hours, and then invents a flamethrower that can tunnel through the moon.) ♦