by Chris Troman
Great deal but I saw him right, wouldn't do a man down for not reaching the finishing line." Then he put a team on it and got the final pieces in the jigsaw.
"So free fuel for my cars and no need to send expensive delivery trucks to the middle of nowhere. I could build my refilling stations anywhere, so you never got stuck between two towns out of gas. Not too good every ware though, some places don't get enough sun, but the south made up for that, and we even installed our collectors where people were just letting heat float off into the air."
He paused for a moment remembering where he was. "I broke the hold those oil barons had, but they’ve still got industry and the domestic market for now." He winked "but I'm not here to rattle on about me, as I said before, read your achievements and thought that's our man." I interrupted him "is it for your plan to build a sky lift?" That stopped him in his tracks like a freight train, suddenly looking like he was x-raying me.
"How do you know about that, if Jerry's got to you to scupper my bet." I cut across him, keen to allay his fears. "No Mr. Conrich sir, I happened by chance to be in the Roxy's ghost the night you made your claim, aardvarks to planet x" and smiled weakly. Then just like a passing hawk he beamed again. "Good man, but don't go all formal on me Mr. Conrich was my father, James or J.C. if your into that wiz kid chat. We're all equal here, if you've got an idea just come out and say it that's what feeds the world, some bosses think the world revolves around them", and off he went again with the passion I always saw in him.
"Some time ago the powers that be, thought our world was at the center of the universe, then science proved them wrong. But current big band theory says that the spark which set all this going", he waved his hands as if to embrace the world "didn’t happen in one place. Like spots on the surface of a balloon that expanded, so every ware is the center of the universe. Which I suppose makes those old guys right, except everywhere else is the center too." He paused to recollect his thoughts, "the thing I'm getting at is everyone is at the center of the universe, and every idea we have is just as valid. So do you want to sail on my ship to a bright future?"
I nodded my assent "yes Mr. Con." and I stopped myself leaning forward to grasp his hand firmly, "James, I would love to." He beamed, as he stood there fully charged, like an athlete after a good work out. I felt invigorated too, he had a way of charging your vigor with his presence. Conrich turned to the intercom on his desk. "Miss Jones can you arrange for Doctor Mallow to have a leave of absence from his university post. A generous donation to the deans pet project."
He turned to me and asked if tomorrow was good. I had little to pack and nodded in assent, next he scribbled a figure on a note pad and passed it over. "Will this plus benefits suffice?" It was ten times what I was earning. "Gladly" I replied and with a curt nod he beamed. "I don't like to talk money, but if a man's worth anything I'll let him know, so it's settled. Henry is waiting to return you to your home, or if you need anything from your lab?" I shook my head, "then I’ll see you tomorrow. We're moving the nerve center of my operations out to the project ground zero, so to speak." I was soon home packing what scant effects I might need. Mostly it was reference books.
The next day dawned and I pinched my self in case it was all a dream, but no, there were my cases packed and ready for the off. The bell rang and Henry ushered me into a large car. "For your things" he replied to my enquiring look. Soon packed we set off towards the airport. I had expected to be taken to a private lounge, but after assuring me my bags would be taken care of, my driver directed me through the main doors.
Conrich was standing inside just chatting to a group of suited men, when he saw me he walked over and clapped me on the back. "Glad to see you Henry" he said as he led me across the terminal. "When I fly I like to use the same planes all my customers use, no private jets." He indicated the check in desks, one of which read fly Rich air. "I don't need a better slogan than that, it sells itself, of course my planes do have that extra twist." He had pioneered the single wing design, effectively the whole plane being one wing, it still used aviation fuel but the design dropped the liter per kilo of the load. True there were no window seats, but with the micro cameras installed all round the outside, every seat could be a window seat. "Of course I wanted every seat to be the same. All first class, but the number crunchers showed me their figures, and folks just don't equate one class with first class, just no class", he sighed.
So the planes still had that exclusive area reserved for those who had, while those who had not were content with thinking they had a bargain. "The thing is first class service costs a lot less than the price difference, but that's human nature for you", he looked glum. Then in an instant he was back to normal. "When I fly I like a party, a captain of industry must be in control of his ship, but for a short while at least I can hand over the wheel to the pilot, can't do much else really."
We had reached the desk where a well-dressed lady was haranguing the check in clerk. "I don't want another flight, I'm lady Fits Milton and I want a first class seat on this flight." The check in clerk was trying to politely explain that a special party had booked the whole of first class, as Conrich strode up to the desk. "My dear lady Fits Milton I'm afraid I'm the cause of your distress, I would be honored if you would join me and my party on our journey." He turned to the clerk who was much relieved, and asked him to check the lady’s bags, no charge. "She's my guest." She proffered her hand, and he took it.
"My thanks Mr. Conrich, and call me Cynthia, it seems rank does have it's privileges. If I hadn't needed a first class seat I wouldn't be getting a free lift as it were, and from such a gracious host." Conrich smiled. "Exactly, and now if you will accompany my friend Henry to the first class lounge. I'm sure my associates will welcome you into our happy throng."I turned to follow, but she was already striding off, her sunglasses now blocking out the world, and a pink hand case rattling behind.
As I quickly followed intending to catch up, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Conrich instructing the check in clerk. The clerk was beaming as he nodded. By the time I caught up, Cynthia was surrounded by the group from the lobby. They were politely laughing at her comments. Just then the announcement came over the Tannoy. "Flight RA376 to Benson Arizona is now boarding", as Conrich came through the double doors."If you will accompany me lady and gentlemen, I cordially invite you to my cocktail party on the wing."
We were soon ushered through security, and passing down the flexible corridor connecting the terminal to our jet. Every now and then I got a glimpse through a window of the huge triangle, gleaming white and emblazoned with Rich air at strategic points. The first class cabin with wide spaces between the seats looked more like a club, with a finishing touch of a small portable bar at one end. A myriad of coloured bottles were strapped to the back wall, and an inscrutable looking bartender stood at attention. We took our seats and I saw the bar tender did too. Then amid polite chat we were soon up in the air. With the seat belt sign off I made my excuses and headed for the lavatory at the back of the room.
Refreshed I stepped out, and heard the muffled tones of our pilot coming through a door that led to standard class. Conrich had his way with that. No economy class, pride should cost nothing. "And I would also like to extend a welcome from Mr. Corich, owner of Rich air. He cordially invites you to a free trip on him, vouchers for air miles are being handed out to the value of this flight. Once more enjoy your time with Rich air." Cheers were breaking out as the general level of babble rose. This side of the door all this went unnoticed as I returned to my seat. I noticed lady Fits Milton displaying enough jewelry to pay the air miles now being dished out.
I turned to Conrich but he had stood and was now addressing the company as a whole. "May I introduce you eminent men and lady", nod to Cynthia "to our guest speaker Sam Wellerby, a professor no less." He paused for effect "of mixology. What Sam doesn’t know about the chemistry of the cocktail is not worth knowing. So without further ado I invite each in turn to have a chat with the professor, and he will
instruct you in the ways of liquid refreshment." At his urging Cynthia went up, and soon after a brief chat, was sipping a bright blue drink in a tall glass. "I saw him put it in, but darn if I can taste the booze." Conrich grinned "just because you can't taste it, don't make there any less sass in your sarsaparilla." In turn we all met the professor and were pleasantly surprised with the mixture he proffered us.
Just then the co-pilot came up to Conrich and saluted. "The captain wanted you to know your greetings are returned", and with that enigmatic message turned to go. But Conrich stopped him. "Stay awhile, I'm sure captain Wilco can keep an eye on the autopilot for a while. Have a chat with the professor and I'm sure he can rustle you up a virgin to your taste." So with a non-alcoholic drink in hand Bill the co-pilot took a seat. "Well I think it's time for a game" our host piped up, directing us all to some panels that came free from the wall. Under Conrich's directions we used them to assemble a table, attached to four of the middle seats that folded down for the occasion. Then he produced a box about two and a half feet by one and a half, and a couple of inches
