by VK Fourstone
But I shall make it to my Harley
And open up the throttle wide…”
“How’s your sister?” the professor asked Isaac.
“It’s not exactly clear. She seems stable, but I’m worried, of course.”
“And what does the doctor say?”
“He says it’s a cyst in her head. I am having a meeting about a potential loan tomorrow.”
Bikie, an expert in changing grim subjects, immediately intervened.
“Link, please explain on the advanced level what this process for pumping back creativity is.”
“All right. Do you know the principle behind collecting orange energy? The basis of the technology is a special kind of magnet. A human being also generates a magnetic field, which retains OE, to prevent it from dissipating away.
Within the computer, there is а supping magnet, whose field is much more powerful than that of a human. Essentially, the following effect occurs: imagine two magnets, one much stronger than the other, the more powerful magnet attracts all the iron filings on the table or, in our case, energy. If you turn it off, the filings will instantly stick back to the other magnet. In our case, it will return to the human energy field.
The trick is that the big magnet is universal, attracting all energy while the human magnet is specific, so the energy will revert to the source from which it had been taken.”
“Heavy! Brilliant!” Bikie summed up.
“What’s brilliant?”
“Not the system for collecting the energy. The presentation is brilliant, the apotheosis of metaphor!”
“Then I’ll continue with my thought.” The professor wasn’t flattered at all by Bikie’s clumsy compliment; in fact, he seemed rather annoyed at having been interrupted. “A human being is a rather weak, feeble magnet. If we want to return your friend’s creativity, then we need to reduce to a minimum the distance between him and his orange energy and amplify his field or switch off the main magnet. Or best of all, do both. But don’t you young people worry about that, I think this can all be done. In your situation, I’d be concerned about something quite different.”
“What?”
“What’s that the name of your Veggie friend….Pascal? Have you already thought of how to persuade him to cooperate with our plan? Persuade him, deliver him here, and attach the equipment, and, of course, we would need to take him to Paris, as close as possible to the Paris OE storage server. We don’t need to go inside, but we will have to get very close. Let’s suppose I can put together an amplifier for his field, I still won’t be able to switch off the magnet in a branch of the Collective Mind.”
“Persuade Pascal? I don’t know, Professor,” Isaac said uncertainly. “I’ll try it when the time comes.”
“Well, do try it,” Link smiled. “There are no other options.”
The next morning Isaac went to the bank, which serviced Wolanski. Peter assured him that with his recommendation it was nothing to worry about, the credit will definitely be extended.
Isaac in high spirits left his home ahead of time; he could not wait to resolve the issue that was so pressing his mind. He happily walked down to the center of the city and entered the cool office.
He had to wait for a long time, almost an hour, before a clerk finally appeared. A fat man in a sharp suit looked very worried. He briefly apologized to Isaac, explaining that all employees were summoned to an unscheduled meeting, and announced that the Bank was sold to a new owner just now. Operations with clients ' accounts were carried out in normal mode, but any credit transaction was suspended.
“I'm sorry, I don't understand what that means?” the anxiety of the banker infected Isaac.
“Unfortunately, the Bank suspended lending operations.”
“You deny me the loan? You promised Peter promised! He's your biggest client!” Isaac became desperate. “He won't just let it go!”
“I'm sorry. It is not easier on me! Now I can be let go. But my wife and son! The fat man trembled.”
“Yes, my sister is dying! What don't you understand?” Isaac switched to shouting.
“I want to talk to your supervisor!”
“He is no longer empowered to make such decisions. The new owner will send their team, which will determine the Bank's major strategy.”
“Well, at least let me speak with them! I will let them know!”
“They are not here yet. No none. We're just a branch. At first, the changes will be applied to the Central office and its top management, and then they will start reformations. They will let go many employees, the priority will be automation. They say the programs of the Collective Mind can significantly reduce costs.”
“What programs, I'm sorry?”
“The Collective Mind. Agency is the new owner of our Bank. They bought us.”
Isaac sat down.
"It just can't be! Damn bastards! They are to blame!" in the mind of Isaac was nothing but hatred. He wanted to strangle the fat man. The man was not guilty, but rage blinded Isaac. He slammed his fist on the table and rushed out into the street. He had to calm down and think of something. In desperation, he called Michelle, leaving her a message that he urgently needs to contact her. For the sake of his sister, he was ready to ask for money even the girl who just dumped him.
The professor was at his ease in the villa, working on his device, often leaving the room only in the evening.
Isaac agreed to another meeting with his patent clerk, Serge Morel.
“I see you went on a holiday? Looking good, so refreshed! Have you been on the beach?” The patents manager was trying to be as endearing to Isaac as he could.
“No, Serge, I’ve just been in the south of Italy, there’s more sun there than shade. Let’s get down to business if you don’t mind,” Isaac replied.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Morel agreed fussily. ”The essence of my proposal is this: it’s always hard to sell your own product, work, or invention. It is your personal creation, so you may feel embarrassed to praise it or even exaggerate slightly. But a good agent is always worth his commission because he squeezes better terms out of the buyer. I was going to suggest ten per cent. If that’s too much, I could actually accept seven.”
“And you have experience with successful deals?” It was the first time Isaac had ever conducted a business negotiation of this kind, and in the role of the hirer too.
“I haven’t worked as an agent before,” Serge replied, “but I have imagined myself in that role many times. I’m sure I can do it quite well. You can trust me, that is important too. We’ve known each other for a long time, and while you look for another candidate and come to grips with all the procedures, you’ll lose a lot of time.”
“And how soon, do you think, until we receive the first payment?”
“In less than a year!” Serge replied triumphantly. “I’ll try my very hardest to get it done in seven or eight months.”
“A year? Seven or eight months?” Isaac exclaimed, dumbfounded. He was expecting money might start coming much sooner.
“Within seven months for sure!” said the agent, frightened by the reaction.
“Seven! For Sure!” The agent was frightened by such an unexpected reaction of his potential customer.
“I agree to sell for very cheap. Really cheap. Not at half price, ten times cheaper.”
Isaac himself for a moment was surprised how calmly he announced the new proposal.
“But money is needed in three weeks, no later.”
“I'm afraid that's impossible. Even if we get in touch with potential buyers, the tests will take at least a couple of months. You only have one sample. There are a few technologies here, the magnetic field generator and amplifier...”
"With the amplifier I was helped by Pascal,” thought Isaac. “He may need to patent it."
“Low price can scare the buying party,” continued Serge, “they might decide to double-check if there is some kind of trick.”
Isaac suddenly felt unwell. His head was sp
inning and the earth started shifting under his feet. He felt as if he were about to pass out. He planned to pay for Vicky’s surgery with this money and he was not expecting it to take so long. It was impossible to imagine that he will be denied the loan, and thus selling the invention was the last option.
“Are you ok? Have a drink of water. It’s so hot in here!” The agent ran to bring a glass of water.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Isaac’s voice suddenly went hoarse. “Is there any way to get the money sooner? I need it in two or three weeks, a month at most.”
“Believe me, seven months is already quite fast. To meet that deadline, I’d be working round the clock.”
“I have a month at the most,” said Isaac, thinking out loud now. “I accept,” he added hastily. “Where do I sign so we can start immediately?”
Serge was absolutely delighted and he shook Isaac’s flabby hand for a long time, trying to add something, but Isaac was in no mood to listen.
It soon turned out that Isaac didn’t even have a month. He got a call from the hospital and the doctor wanted to discuss things with him in person. The bad news were just not stopping. Vicky had developed complications. Despite the medications, her body started adapting to the prolonged coma, and these changes threatened to affect vital organs and could afflict irreversible damage. The surgery had to be performed within the next few days.
Isaac was desperate. No sooner had his life come together than it started falling apart again. The doctor said a week at the most and hinted that Vicky had a rather high OE level. Isaac didn’t even want to hear about that and he interrupted the doctor in mid-sentence.
But where could he get the money like that at such short notice?
First of all, Isaac phoned Wolanski just in case. Peter listened attentively, just mumbling something in response. He was very sorry, but everything he could put together from all available sources would barely cover a half of what was needed. He would have been glad to pay it all but most of his money was still beyond his reach.
Isaac called the hospital and offered to pay half. They refused, they wanted the whole amount.
Isaac feverishly ran through all possible options. He had absolutely nothing to sell and Bikie didn’t have any money either. Was he really too late now, had everything been in vain? Going back to get downloaded sounded totally crazy. In theory, Link or Michelle could have that kind of money. But Michelle didn't call back, it seems she removed Isaac from her life. He left her a note with the Concierge, describing the problem with his sister. If Michelle gets it, it might help.
Isaac dashed back home and knocked on the professor’s door. Link was there, as always, working on his device.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, just a moment and I’ll open up. Wait downstairs for a couple of minutes and I’ll join you straight away.”
The professor soon appeared in the sitting room.
“What happened, Isaac? You look terrible. Pale as a ghost.”
“It’s Vicky. She needs the surgery urgently. I have a week at the most, and only half the money.”
“And how much more do you need?”
Isaac told him, and the professor whistled.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of money. I’m only a fugitive scientist who didn’t get a cent for his most important invention.”
“Tell me, what do you still need to finish assembling the input device?” A desperate idea was taking shape in Isaac’s head.
“Actually, it’s ready. The problem is that there is no one to test it upon.”
“What if I get Pascal to you quickly and we can perform the experiment on him? Do you think you are ready for that?”
“Yes, I’m ready to try. In theory, everything ought to work.”
“Good. Then you’ll have Pascal. I guarantee it.”
The idea of performing the experiment on his former friend scared Isaac. He didn’t want to do it, hoping that some other option would turn up by chance. But it had not and now there was no choice. The other option was selling his own orange energy.
As Isaac set off to Roquebrun, he was raking his brain over what could persuade Pascal to take on this dangerous adventure. Of course, it was pointless to lay all the cards on the table, but Isaac did not want to lure him in by deception either. He chose a middle course.
Before he entered the luxurious house, Isaac switched on the web camera that Bikie attached to his sleeve. He said hello and immediately blurted out:
“How are you doing? Still sitting here, turning musty? Look, I’m going to Paris, so I decided to ask you to come along. Would you like to go to Paris, bro? Just imagine, the evening, the Eiffel Tower glimmering with sparks of electricity, you and me sitting in a street bar with a beer. Like in the good old…”
“Hi, Isaac. Thanks for the invitation, but no, I don’t want to go,” said his old friend, greeting him with a smile. “Come in!”
“Aw, come on, I can see you want to!” Isaac thought maybe he ought to pressure Pascal a bit, he might succumb to persistence. He had never tried any psychological tricks before.
“You can see I want to? Nah, thanks, I don’t. Not really interested,” Pascal said melancholically.
“I tell you for sure, you are interested. When was the last time you got out of this place?”
“Ages ago, but why get out? It’s great here anyway,” Pascal replied with a polite smile.
“No, wait! Travelling is so much fun! Just imagine this: Paris, strolling along, pretty college-girls sitting on lawns with heaps of books. And food! Isn’t it delicious there? Remember that nice little restaurant we found once and it turned out to be simply great?”
“I remember. But no thanks, don’t hassle me.” Another smile. “Would you like something?”
“Yes, I would, actually. I would like to know is there anything at all that interests you now.” Isaac was trying hard not to get wound up, but he was already starting to feel angry.
“I am interested in everything. There’s the TV, there’s food, there’re sports, I can play football. Fresh air. I don’t understand why I should go anywhere.”
“But it’s Paris, Pascal!”
“Well, so what? There’s Moscow, too, London, New York. What next, should I travel to all the cities in the world? What for?”
“Pascal, this is a specific trip to Paris! And you should be interested if you’re interested in everything, as you say. Let’s go, I guarantee you won’t regret it.”
The word “interested” was starting to make Isaac feel sick.
“That’s right, I am interested in everything.”
“Then let’s just go,” said Isaac, delighted that he had manipulated his friend’s opinion so easily.
“No.”
“But why not?”
“I don't want to, and that’s it,” Pascal replied. “I have to call my administrator.”
“No, no, no …” Isaac protested, but Pascal was already dialing the number.
After talking to his “nanny”, Pascal looked at Isaac with the smile still on his face, blinked several times, either in apology or in attempt to force out a speck that had got into his eye, and said:
“I won’t go. My administrator says that the sanatoriums in Paris are worse than in Nice. Want a coffee? The broadcast of the Brazil-England game is just about to begin. Do you want to stay and watch?”
“Total déjà vu!” thought Isaac, remembering the time Pascal refused to lend him money and sent him to the administrator, and she sent him back to Pascal.
Isaac made a final attempt, realizing that it bordered on insanity.
“Pascal, would you like to stop being a Happy and become normal again?”
“Would I like to? I don’t know. I guess not. Definitely not. I’m happy, everything is just fine. I like my life very much, without that eternal searching for money and the tiny, cheap apartment. I don’t see any point in changing everything back.”
Isaac was exhausted, he gulped down the coffee Pascal bro
ught him and grimaced. Lousy garbage, Decaf.
“Have you regular coffee, with caffeine?”
“Caffeine’s bad for you, Isaac. Everyone’s known that for ages.”
“Living’s bad for you in general. You keep getting older.”
“Follow a healthy lifestyle and you’ll live a long time.”
“You say that as if you’re reciting propaganda.”
“But it’s obvious, Isaac, look after your health. Why drink and eat what’s bad for you and expose yourself to unnecessary risk? Live right and you’ll live to be a hundred.”
Isaac said goodbye and left. He promised to call in again after a couple of days. Pascal smiled and said he was always glad to see his old friend.
“Isaac, brother,” Bikie said after he heard the story of the failure with Pascal, “as for me, I don’t see any problem here. Of course, you can study textbooks on psychology, the latest articles on behavioral stereotypes of Veggies and search through all sorts of bullshit. But I’d prescribe our patient with my perfectly ordinary left hook. A minute of guaranteed blank brain, no broken bones, and a slight headache.”
“I’m not sure, Bikie…”
“As a matter of fact, our professor is preparing a little something that is far more terrifying than my fist. He and his assistant are putting together an amplifier that will draw OE towards your astute friend. That’s the dangerous crap here. If they fry your Pascal’s remaining brains, now that would be a problem.”
Of course, Isaac was worried about Pascal. However, this concern was mitigated by the professor’s unshakable authority, his own strong desire to save his sister and get his friend back and the realization that there was simply no other way. He wanted to talk about the risks with Link, but the professor announced that he wasn’t feeling well and asked not to be disturbed.
All said and done, Pascal was the only chance of getting the money for Vicky after all.
5
It was early evening. Isaac and Bikie drove out in professor’s van in the direction of Pascal’s settlement. All bases were covered and the friends were definitely counting on success. What would happen if the operation went wrong was something they didn’t ask themselves.
