by Dan Kolbet
Off The Grid
By Dan Kolbet
Off The Grid
Luke Kincaid is a model employee at the only company in the world that can deliver wireless electricity. He's engaged to the CEO's daughter and is quickly becoming the go-to corporate spy on its behalf. But Luke would rather tear the company down from the inside. The company killed his parents and it must pay. Threatened by a secret that could destroy him and any chance of revenge, Luke sets off to find the true origins of wireless electricity, but discovers a vast deception that will change the world forever.
Copyright © 2011 Dan Kolbet
All rights reserved.
For Allison and Felicity
Novels by Dan Kolbet
Off The Grid
Don’t Wait For Me
A world without wires
In 1901 Thomas Edison’s rival, Nikola Tesla, a largely forgotten scientist, inventor and genius envisioned a world without wires, where power was sent to homes and businesses not through power lines but delivered innocently through the air like radio waves. Today, one company has made it happen. Electricity is cheap and efficient, but this wonderful new wireless system leaves thousands of American towns and millions of people in the dark and off the grid.
Prologue
10 Years Ago Mill Creek, California
If Luke Kincaid had known tonight was the last time he’d see his parents alive, he wouldn’t have nodded off in the backseat of the sedan. The highway was dark and he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Muddy soccer cleats rested on top of the gym bag next to him. His father Henry was driving. Eleanor, his mother, was in the passenger seat. She slipped off her seatbelt and turned around so she could see Luke as she spoke.
“You did good today,” she said, waking him. “I know coach Miller was impressed, too.”
Luke, an 18-year-old high school senior, had scored two goals despite his team’s loss at a regional soccer tournament. The week prior he’d accepted a full-ride soccer scholarship to Stanford. His future coach had come out tonight to watch him play.
“I just wish we would have won,” he said.
“You can’t do everything on your own, Luke,” Henry said. “You have teammates for a reason.”
Henry rode Luke hard to be the consummate team player – to think of himself only after giving others the chance to shine. Luke rarely disappointed his father.
“You’ll be playing with the best next year,” his mother said. “I just know you’re going to do great things. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks mom.”
“I mean it,” she said. “You need to make the most out of this opportunity. The world is a different place now. The blackout isn’t going away thanks to StuTech and you’ve got a chance to escape all this and make a difference out there.”
“I know, mom,” he said. “I heard you the last 10 times you told me that too.”
“As long as it’s sinking in, honey,” she said. She turned back around in her seat, content that her message had at least been received.
They were only a few miles outside of town. Luke took out his cell phone from his pocket hoping for a text message from one of his friends. But he forgot, no reception. It was the second day of the blackout. He felt so isolated. No one in Mill Creek had power because StuTech’s wireless towers couldn’t reach the town. They all knew the blackout was coming, but in reality no one was prepared.
Luke dropped the phone when the sudden wail of the sedan’s horn pierced the quiet car for a split second before the blinding headlights of the oncoming semi-truck forced Henry to look away. The truck was headed right for them. On instinct Henry yanked the steering wheel to the right to avoid a collision, but it was too late. The truck slammed into the driver’s side of the car, spinning it around twice before the car toppled over a highway guardrail and landed on its roof.
Luke could immediately taste blood in his mouth. He spit out a mouthful before attempting to free himself from the seatbelt that kept him dangling upside down. He smelled gas and could hear a dripping sound. He tried to use his legs and arms to push himself back into the seat to release the seatbelt. It didn’t work.
The car was quiet, except for his struggles.
“Mom? Dad?”
No answer. The car must have rolled into a ditch, Luke thought. His eyes couldn’t focus in the darkness.
Then he remembered the cell phone.
He picked up the phone resting on the ceiling and flipped it open. The faint light revealed the dripping sound. A pool of blood was collecting under him. He didn’t know what his injuries were and he didn’t care. He turned the phone toward the front seat. His father’s legs were smashed against the underside of the steering wheel.
“Dad, wake up!”
Nothing.
Luke pointed the phone toward the passenger seat. His mom was not there.
He suddenly became aware of a sharp pain in his shoulder - the origin of all the blood. A piece of chrome window trim had sliced into him. He tried to cover up the wound with his hand, but dropped his phone in the process.
The realization of what had happened finally set in. Everything went black as he passed out.
***
When Luke woke up he was strapped to a bench against the wall of a moving ambulance. A bandage was wrapped around his shoulder. A canvas belt held him down, but he could still turn his head.
“Clear!” shouted a paramedic.
Inches from Luke, his father’s bare chest accepted a jolt of electricity from a defibrillator and jumped. The paramedic then pumped his fists on Henry’s sternum and counted out loud. A heart monitor beeped with every thrust.
“Come on, damn it. We’re almost to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “Stay with us just a little longer.”
The ambulance came to an abrupt halt. The driver jumped out and flung the back doors open. The red flashing lights of the ambulance illuminated Mill Creek Medical Center’s darkened sign.
A doctor in scrubs emerged from the building carrying a flashlight.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. “We’re completely offline. The backup generators went dead two hours ago. You’ve got to take them to where they have power.”
“We don’t have that kind of time,” one of the paramedics said. “He needs help now.”
“We don’t have anything here that can help this man.”
The anguish on the paramedics’ faces quickly faded as the heart monitor stopped its rhythmic beeping and Henry flat-lined again. They worked for another 15 minutes, but without the hospital’s machines, he was already gone.
Henry Kincaid died before his son’s eyes in the medical center’s dark parking lot.
“Where’s my mom?” was all Luke managed to say after the men stopped their efforts on his father.
“She was thrown from the car and died before we arrived on scene. I’m sorry.”
Tears and blood stung his eyes. Thirty minutes ago the world was a scary place, but his future was bright and his parents were by his side. Then somebody pulled the plug on all of it.
The truck driver’s name was Brian Overland. A church in Los Angeles had hired him to deliver fresh water to towns impacted by the blackouts. He’d been on the road making deliveries for 14 hours straight before the crash. Luke didn’t blame the truck driver for his parents’ deaths. He didn’t blame the paramedics either. They thought the medical center had back-up power and tried to save his father with everything they had.
No, it wasn’t the truck driver or the paramedics who killed his parents. It was StuTech, the company that caused the blackout.
Chapter 1
Portland, Oregon
Luke’s running shoes bounced off the rain soaked pathway of Mainfair Park. This would make his sixth pass around th
e park today. His shorts and T-shirt were soaked through with light rain and perspiration, which had begun to sting his eyes quite some time ago. The sting in his eyes was familiar. He glanced at his GPS watch. Five miles. He also noted that it was 10:30 a.m., three hours before the interview.
The campus of MassEnergy was situated just off the park’s winding perimeter. The company employed more than 1,100 people at last check and that number was on the rise. Luke’s frequent runs in the park over the last two months allowed him to see a steady stream of well-dressed young men and women entering the main building carrying briefcases or shoulder bags, then exiting after a few hours. These job seekers stood out markedly from actual employees who were dressed-down in jeans and T-shirts. Engineers were that way. They just don’t teach fashion sense in Standards of Electrical Generation. The hiring boom was on and that was exactly what Luke was hoping for.
He stopped at the edge of the park overlooking the Willamette River and valley below. To the north was the vibrant international hub of Oregon’s largest city, that over the last few years had grown at an astounding pace as the tech center migrated up from California’s Silicon Valley to Oregon and Washington. Just outside of the downtown core stood gated and guarded communities, their bright lights created halos in the overcast morning.
The main parking lot of MassEnergy was completely full and shuttles intermittently dropped off employees near the main entrance. The covered shuttle stops and the exterior of the main lobby were filled with eager job candidates, killing time before their all-important personnel meetings. Just last week it was Luke huddled under those awnings, drawing the attention of his competition. He had hoped to blend in as just another sheep in the flock, but his six-foot-three frame, broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw line wouldn’t allow it. He stood out a bit from the other engineers who could be described at best as – probably smart. The terms pasty and slight were practically written into the electrical engineer’s handbook. Nonetheless, his Stanford education and practical work experience made him more than qualified for the engineering candidate class – whatever that was. The exact job duties had yet to be explained to him and to his knowledge, any other candidates either.
Luke removed his phone from his waistband and held it up, feigning an attempt to find a cellular signal while taking a breather from his run. Sliding the on-screen switch to video, he pointed the device at several individuals under the awnings and hit record. The camera zeroed in on faces, just long enough to capture a clear image of everyone in the crowd. It took just seconds. He saw several familiar faces. With a few taps on the screen, the video was uploaded and today’s first of two tasks was accomplished.
He set off in the opposite direction from the corporate campus through a residential neighborhood. Less than a block away he stepped into a puddle as deep as his ankle, and felt the cold stream of water seep under his toes. The water would undoubtedly destroy his $200 shoes – the only luxury he had allowed himself to buy in the last 11 months. There’s no chance StuTech will approve that on my expense report, Luke thought.
He made it the two miles back to his tiny studio apartment in less than 12 minutes and took the three flights of stairs two steps at a time. Six minutes a mile was better than most and not particularly slow for him, and counting the rain, soggy shoes and traffic lights, it wasn’t bad. This gave him just enough time to shower, dress and go over his mock interview questions and topics for the hundredth time. His one charcoal gray suit hung on the far left side of his paltry closet next to hooded sweatshirts and above piles of gym shorts and faded blue jeans. He slipped on a burgundy silk tie that was sitting on the Murphy bed.
He slathered peanut butter on a two-day-old bagel and downed it with a glass of weak orange juice made from concentrate. He could touch both walls of his kitchen at the same time. He was alone in the drafty apartment. No family or friends to speak of. The life of a corporate spy, he thought. Well, almost a corporate spy.
The rain had stopped, so he left his overcoat on the hook by the door and descended the three flights of stairs to the street level. The neighborhood was quiet – the rain having driven most people indoors and they’d yet to return. A large pawnshop anchored one end of the block, followed by an always-empty French café and a secondhand clothing store. Not exactly Rodeo Drive.
He walked back to the MassEnergy campus, this time more careful to avoid any puddles that might ruin his only pair of leather loafers that had come courtesy of the secondhand store on the corner.
He thought he was a lock to get the job and this third interview was more of a formality than anything else. He’d already been tested on his grasp of wireless electric system design and transmission, plus built mock-ups of urban networks more complex than most in existence today. His skills couldn’t be questioned.
If MassEnergy didn’t select Luke for this job, it would be a shock. Unfortunately, Luke thought as the campus came into view, hiring me means every person working here will soon be kicked out into the cold.
***
Just after the popular adoption of affordable all-electric vehicles, well-funded activists in the United States pushed forward legislation that banned the burning of nearly all fossil fuels on American soil. Gasoline for cars and coal in power plants were the key targets. Energy independence is an American right, they argued, but it’s also our duty to ensure our practices don’t kill our planet.
Man-made climate change, once considered questionable science, became a mainstream belief. True or not. Only drastic action could possibly save Mother Earth.
Ending oil imports from foreign countries enabled the continued development of more sophisticated electric vehicles, which drove up the demand for electricity. A massive gap was created. Nearly 50 percent of the country’s electric generation had once come from coal power plants, which now sat idle. Much of the South and the Eastern seaboard were devastated. There just wasn’t enough power to go around. Existing power plants that didn’t burn fossil fuels were allowed to operate and most were rebuilt in an attempt to increase capacity.
Yet, the ban on fossil fuels continued – for the sake of the planet, most believed.
So, over two decades ago when a brilliant scientist from Cornell University named Warren Evans introduced a wireless electricity-delivery system that would replace aging power lines, lower energy prices and bring the country back from the brink of economic disaster, he was heralded as a conquering hero. His system helped the remaining power plants get energy where it needed to be. It eliminated energy wasted through “old-fashion” power lines. The lack of electric generation could be overcome thanks to this new wireless-delivery system. It wasn’t a perfect answer to the crisis, but it caught on like wildfire.
Evans formed a company, called StuTech, which quickly became the largest electric-transmission company in the country, responsible for delivering wireless energy to half of the U.S. population. But the company’s growing monopoly didn’t benefit everyone.
A checkerboard of electric utility companies across the United States simply folded, leaving their copper wires and transformers attached uselessly to an antiquated wire grid. Cities and towns, situated long distances from any electric generation facilities went dark, pushing their residents into urban centers, where life was “the way it used to be,” for the most part.
Some chose to stay in these forgotten worlds of 1850s living, isolated from the digital demand of the day, while reluctantly accepting their fate as forgotten relics.
StuTech’s monopoly may have saved the country from certain collapse, but it also ensured that thousands of cities and towns would stay off line for good.
Chapter 2
A large female security guard named Frankie waved Luke through the metal detectors at MassEnergy after directing him to place his briefcase on a conveyer belt to be scanned. A few dozen people stood in line behind him in the main lobby of Building 1. She leafed through his bag mindlessly.
“Looking for anything in particular?” Luke asked.
“Sweetie, there’s nothing we’re not looking for,” she said. “With all you newbie’s crawling around in here today, I’m never going to get a break.”
A sign posted at the security desk listed prohibited materials. No phones, laptops, tablets, pocket computers, flash drives, scanners, cameras or recordable discs were allowed inside. Behind the desk was a room with a set of shelves full of devices from people who obviously didn’t read the sign first.
Luke flashed her a knowing smile, noting that he understood her pain if only for the 35 seconds he was expected to interact with her.
“I’m not a newbie yet, but I hope to be soon.”
She looked up from the bag and gave him a quick once-over and then went back to her tasks and didn’t look up again.
Luke and 40 or so others were ushered into a small auditorium. He took a seat in the back. A man Luke recognized from Human Resources mounted the stage.
“Thank you all for coming for your third interview. I know this isn’t the quickest process, but we think it works. You’re going to be divided into groups of eight and will be talking to a member of our executive team one at a time. You’ll all get the same set of questions and will be evaluated on your previous skill tests and how you answer today’s inquiries. Any questions? No? Good.”
He then called out the names of the first group.
To Luke’s left was a dark-skinned man, who looked to be of Middle Eastern descent. He pulled out a set of headphones and fumbled with a device in his jacket and started to tap a rhythm on the chair in front of him. The tapping became more animated as the man waved both arms above and around his head banging on the seats around him. The commotion started to draw the attention of others in the room who turned around and stared at the man, who had his eyes closed. He waved his arms as if he was playing a set of air drums – symbols and all. He was completely oblivious to those around him.
