Robichard shifted in his chair and glanced at his wrist. Almost time to take his medicine. By this time tomorrow, he would be a new man; literally. He tapped the wristband and told it to display his net worth. It was comforting to be the world's richest man but troublesome that, should he fail in his quest, all of his fabulous wealth would be claimed by the world's governments.

Who would have thought that the New United Nations would have been so bold, so reactionary? Hell, he owned nearly half the delegates and they had still managed to pass that wealth redistribution act. He should have anticipated this. So they thought that they were going to get his money when he died? Well they had a big surprise coming.

Robichard had used his vast fortune to secretly develop a way to extend his life for at least another hundred years. Tonight he would implement his 'cure'.

A door opened behind him. Toggling the control on his wheelchair, he spun around to face his personal assistant, Max

"It is time, sir".

"The test cases still healthy?" Robichard had not gotten where he was by taking undue risk. He had secretly forced three different men to undergo the treatment before him. The one thing they had in common was they all shared a similar physiology with Richard Robichard. That and the fact that they all now stood an excellent chance of living for a long, long time.

"Yes sir." Max carried a tray with a glass of light green liquid.

Robichard took the proffered glass and drank it down. It had a slightly oily aftertaste and he shuddered. "When do I get the shot?"

"In about twenty minutes. The nanobots you just drank need time to work before we deactivate them. Will there be anything else?'

Robichard waved him off and rolled his chair over to the fireplace. He wondered if he should be doing something to mark the moment. The first man to live forever would surely go down in the history books. He laughed at that. He already controlled what the world heard and read through his media conglomerate. He could make up anything he wanted about this night and who would argue with him?

He heard the door open behind him and was surprised that Max was back already. He tried to turn his chair but it wasn't responding to his thoughts. He sat helplessly, unable to move, as Max and a woman rolled him away from the fireplace.

"Is he conscious?"

"Yeah, just paralyzed. I put it in the drink. You can hear us, can't you, Dickie? The Secretery General sends his regards."

"Why don't we just kill him now?"

"The wristband works from his biometrics. If he is dead, it will shut everything down. Besides, without the shot those nanobots will kill him in about an hour. It's cleaner that way."

Using Robichard's thumb print on the wristband, the woman transferred all of his medical research to a secure UN server. The rest of his vast business dealings would become public on his death but the Secretary General felt that Robichard's fountain of youth should be controlled by only a select few world leaders.

The woman turned to leave. "You coming?"

"My instructions are to stay and 'discover' him in another hour." After the woman left, Max accessed the wristband again. He was sure the UN would not miss the half billion that he transferred to his retirement account.

The news release was brief: "Richard Robichard, the World's Richest Man, died peacefully last night at home. He was ninety four years old."