by Chris Troman
thick. On the front embossed across a map of the world, was the word Risk.
"This, my esteemed guests is my solution to mutually assured destruction, or at least it was at the tender age of thirteen." He unpacked the board and pieces, which turned out to be mildly magnetic, thus sticking to the table top just enough to keep them there, but not hinder play. Then he explained the rules. "I figured back in my youth, that if any would be dictator could conquer the world on here, he would have no need to do it for real, leading to a lot less blood shed.
In fact a few years back I heard a rumor that the five permanent UN defense committee nations, were trying to suppress the game in the Dark Continent. So I got a whole bunch of these printed in Somali, wrapped each in bubble film then loaded up one of those cargo planes. You know the ones with the fold down backs." He took a sip of his drink, "then I got it to fly all over that country just dropping them out. I heard it's a national past time now." One fellow snorted, and smiling kindly Conrich continued. "Well I heard unwanted activities in that area had dropped considerably. Better than Kaufman's plan to feed Vegemite to the Middle East, to counter the vitamin deficiency he claimed was getting them all riled up." At that we all laughed, and so the game began.
"Todays game is to complete your mission on the card you've just drawn. Makes it more fun not to know if you're helping an opponent, with a cunning advance through Europe." As the game progressed he maneuvered his troops with the skill of a general. He was magnanimous in his defeats and apologetic in victory. Always encouraging to his fellow players, and never broke a pact.
I glanced over at the barman; the slow stream of drinks got replenished according to the wants of his charges. He seemed to keep a close eye on the group, as if judging the needs of each and so mixing his drinks accordingly. No one fell into an over exuberant state, or succumbed to sleep, all just enjoyed that extended moment in time. A lesser man might have suspected Conrich of a manipulation of the group to his ends, but I knew in my heart that he would never be a party to such base actions, and his relaxed nature was as chemically induced as our own.
Finally with a storm through Australia, he turned his card over to reveal his mission complete, and every one congratulated him with genuine affection. The co-pilot rose. "I should see how captain Wilco is getting on, he'll need to stretch his legs I bet." He extracted a device like an inhaler from his pocket, and blew in to it. The top turned green, he nodding at the group, and headed off to the cabin. "A little device I had made up for our pilots" Conrich explained, at the enquiring looks from the group. "Instant breathalyzers have been about for some time, so we added a few features and to cut a long story short. If any intoxicating substance gets into one of my pilots, we know strait away, great for safety. The other airlines snapped it up. It would look bad on them otherwise."
"We tried it for cars but civil liberties stopped that one, you can't stop a drunk from getting in front of the wheel, it's his right. Still when we finally get self-driving cars they won't have an excuse and numbers will prove how deadly some people can be. But I see from the on screen flight progress we will be landing soon, so I think we best tidy our room up." So we all proceeded to disassemble the table, pack the game away and return the chairs to the upright. Soon you would have never known it was nothing but a first class section.
The captain came over the Tannoy. "Ladies and gentlemen we will be shortly arriving at Benson municipal airport, we hope you had a pleasant flight to day." We disembarked shortly, and thanking Conrich for the lovely time, lady Fits Milton left our group, unaware she had been let off a considerably smaller percentage of her wealth than the rest of the passengers. "The publicity costs of all that good will, pays for itself many times over", quipped the great engineer, as we headed for the exit.
Free of the airport we were met by two large four by four cars. "One for the opposition?" I inclined my head to Conrich. He smiled, "Bigger batteries for bigger cars, the technology is always advancing. They're just the same as what's in your phone, only scaled up. We just trickle our profits down to the latest license holders, too many competitors to worry about R an D." I got in the back one with three of our group, while Conrich took the lead with the balance of our party.
We nodded our acknowledgements, feeling the fatigue of the plane journey. Then over the Tannoy Conrich's ever boisterous tone rang. "We'll be some time to reach our destination, so relax and get to know one another. Tomorrow's the first day of a new era." Whether Wellerby had underestimated my capacity, or I was just naturally quicker off the mark, I made my introductions first. "I'm Doctor Henry Mallow, specializing in chemistry, materials will be my contribution I suppose."
I looked to my left at the small sandy haired fellow. A head shorter than the rest of us he piped up, "Frank Lloyd, architect. I was between projects and out of the blue got this invitation. When Mr. Conrich said he was building the tallest structure ever, I jumped at it. Some buildings are beautiful enough to be a pin up, but everyone remembers the tallest. It will be the pinnacle my career."
The next guy, who would have looked more at home in an epic adventure through the jungle, was Archibald Stanton, a meteorologist. "Going to need a guide from the bottom to the top, Conrich told me." My final companion for this trip was a giant of a man. "Boris Kopanric, ex Russian federal space agency and aeronautics expert. When we get to the top I'll see you O.K." Boris added, grinning his wide smile.
We spent the rest of the time swapping anecdotes, until the car pulled up to a halt at our new home, for the near future at least. Each of us was led to his own neat bungalow with bedroom, and study room kitted out with all the necessities. "Spartan but homely, once you get your knick-knacks installed", my guide informed me as he bid good night.
I slept the sleep of the innocent, and awoke next morning to the gentle glow of the sun on my brow. Looking about I found my luggage ready for unpacking in the study room, and opening what I took for a large wardrobe, found a toilet, sink and compact shower. After I had made myself presentable and spread a few things about, a knock at the door brought me back to the now. I opened it to find Conrich in shorts and a tee shirt beaming at me. "Sleep well? That Sam sure can mix his drinks, I've got him on permanent staff. Let's take a stroll to the canteen for a bite to eat, most important meal of the day."
As we sauntered through this small town of prefabricated bungalows, he gave me the low down on the set up. The whole site was for the workers making the ground level section of the project, and until that was constructed we engineers of the tower would stay here too. "Makes sense to keep it all together", so all the laboratories were here as well. Of course the construction crews could bring their families. So some bungalows were a fair size bigger. When that part was finished they could either have the building shipped to where they wanted.
"Part of their contract" he laughed. “Or they would go to folks in trailer parks, along with the school and medical center we've got here." The homes were essentially self-contained. The water for washing was recycled in a distillery run off solar power, and the other waste was converted to compost, as part of the toilet in the house. Then a team took that to a local farmer in exchange for food he had grown. "I don't intend to be here long enough to use the stuff myself." The same with the water waste going to the distillery and clean water delivered back.
"No pipes, see?" he tapped the ground with his toe. "What about heat and light?" I asked. He informed me the roof was two sets of I.R. solar panels, one for the sun the other on the ceiling with a reflector in between, to catch anything getting by. This powered L.E.D. lighting and an under floor heating or cooling system. "Like a fridge, and as a boost when it's running, the heat rising to the ceiling can be collected by the I.R. panels to keep the batteries charged." With insulation below that, and other collectors buried in the walls, the place supplied more than enough for the occupants needs.
We had passed out of the mass of houses, and were approaching a number of large huts clearly marked as canteens. Off to my left I noticed
the monumental construction work. A set of three lakes was being built on different levels. "Hydro electric?" I asked. "Quite the opposite" came the reply, "but we'll get to that after breakfast" and he motioned me through the door.
The canteen was like a fast food restaurant, with bucket seats fixed to tables, and a long counter of serving stations. There was a wide range of dishes displayed above, enough to fulfill any taste or dietary requirements. The food seemed to be served on rigid plastic plates or bowls, with cups or mugs of the same material. "A variety of melamine, virtually unbreakable and it can be sterilized in a section of the distillery", he explained. "Metal cutlery of course, can't improve on that." "Any one make some hooch at the distillery?" I jokingly enquired; he just laughed then informed me the process was too hot, any booze would blow sky high. "Kills them bugs dead, but the water processed there gets an extra blast of U.V. just to make sure."
The bulk of the food being of catering proportions was delivered in reusable containers strait from the manufacturers. "Any jigging about with the packaging process we stump up for, but we save on the delivery costs." The
