Excolopolis_Poles of Enforcement

by Jack L. Marsch

  “Don't mess around, Sean. I'm offering you enough money to build yourself another one of these towns,” Solberg argued.

  “Look, Daniel. It's not about money.”

  “Oh God, don't even start with your ‘money does not matter’ speeches!” Solberg cut him off. “You built this town with money! What can you do without it, huh?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Listen, I have no intention in ruining the car industry. What I am capable of delivering will create exactly the same market competition we have now. The only difference is that it will be coming from a different source,” explained Steersman.

  “No intention of ruining it?! Have you lost your marbles?!” Solberg jumped up. “What the hell do you think the suppliers, oil companies, all of them, are saying about your little magic ball? Shall I spell it out for you?” He was really beginning to boil. “Tyre production! Hm? No need for them, is there? No contact with the ground, no tread, no tires,” he sputtered. “no need for brakes either, no engine, nothing! Will we need fuel? No, we fucking won't!” Solberg was beginning to lose control.

  “We won't need any of those things.” Steersman smiled. “That's the whole point: to produce an environmentally neutral car, at a lower cost. As you well know, the luxury is in the interior anyway. The customers will be satisfied, trust me.”

  “If it wasn't you sitting there, I'd be thinking you had no idea what are you're doing!” Solberg gave voice to his doubts. “Millions and million of people are going to lose their jobs. Do you really think they are going to be so pleased?!”

  “We'll give them jobs. They might be different jobs, but there'll be plenty to do.” Steersman continued to smile.

  “I seriously doubt it. You're a fucking fanatic!” Solberg sat glaring at him. “What a hell are you up to?” He asked, pointedly.

  “What I have always done: just stirring the water up a bit. The balance of powers is very one sided at the moment, very insular, and it's not healthy.”

  “Fuck you! Of course, you get the biggest slice of the cake,” fumed Solberg.

  “No … not just me. You will too. As a matter of fact, the whole world will.”

  There was a moment of silence as invisible thoughts passed between the two men.

  “What can you supply us with?” Said Solberg abruptly, breaking the silence.

  “At the moment we have two different energy modules to experiment with. I can give your engineers enough prototypes that they'll have what they need to develop the use of the new drive technology. They'll receive detailed documentation on operation: how each module can be directed, controlled, adjusted, and so on,” Steersman listed. “If you are quick enough, you could be the one to launch the first ever hover vehicle onto the market.”

  Solberg smiled, plainly beginning to feel excited. “This little invention of yours … I haven't been so excited since I first sat on a super-bike.”

  “Well, that makes two of us,” admitted Steersman.

  “I hope you know what you are doing. I have the sneaking suspicion that there are quite a few people out there who would love to have you terminated, right now.”

  “Precisely.” Steersman nodded. “I have thought about that. That's why I employ guards. They are taking care of it.”

  Daniel Solberg looked around the room pointedly and then said somewhat ironically, “Yeah, I bet you feel real safe … where are they?”

  Steersman laughed. “If I told you, then I'd have to have you terminated. That would be unpleasant, for all of us.”

  “Then forget it,” laughed Solberg. “All right! I'm in.” He slapped knee. “Sean, you're a bastard. We'll wait for the prototypes to be delivered then, as soon as possible, if you don't mind.” The BMW CEO stood up, somewhat mollified, and moved across to shake Steersman's hand.

  “They are already there,” said Steersman, as he stood up.

  Daniel Solberg paused, trying to hide his surprise, then turned and walked speechlessly from the office.

  When he had gone, Karen peeped into Steersman's room.

  “Sean, do you need anything?”

  “Yes, please. Get hold of the security manager and ask for a status report and, tell them I intend to extend their contract. Ask them to go to the next alert level within the next thirty days.”

  Karen nodded, secretly relieved. “OK, consider it done.”

  It was the third time that Steersman had extended their security contract. The company was now providing a small personal army. They'll have to put all of their resources here. They going to be spitting blood. Karen was beginning to worry, worry about pretty much everything. She had never before worked in such a charged atmosphere, but along with the tension came intensity and excitement. She wouldn't miss it for anything.

  She wanted to be part of the change, the revolution. She wanted to witness from within, and actually, she was starting to think that Sean Steersman could pull it off.

  The security manager could only be reached through a secured phone line that connected after a 64 character code was keyed in, a procedure that could take up to a minute, then a voice check came up, followed by a password check. After that she could speak to the man himself. Karen passed on Steersman's requests and received a terse, “Copy that, Madam.”

  Then the connection cut off.

  “Okay, then.” Karen rolled her eyes. “Nice talk.” The super-secret James Bond shit seemed funny, but it also made her skin crawl, somehow.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  Attack

  The winter festival preparations had started, which also meant that city's preparation for the season had begun. There was less than two weeks left till the beginning of the festival. Like everything else in Excolopolis, it didn't even have a proper name. It bothered Karen. It bothered her to the point that she had been playing round with the idea of setting up a committee to deal with choosing names, handling events, injecting some life into the city. It's real wonder that the city is ever named, she had thought to herself so many times.

  The city's winter celebration had been elegantly fused with the opening ceremony of the new International district. It was to be held on a large site flanking the eastern lake shore.

  The International district had been built in the styles of eight different nationalities where, according to the plans, restaurant and bar owners would compete for business. The construction and outfitting of each of the Italian, Japanese, Dutch, French, English, American, Spanish and Austrian edifices had caused constant traffic problems on almost all of the urban road networks, as the delicate shop, restaurant, bar, hotel and entertainment complex tenants frantically tried keep to the deadlines set by city management or face the threat of losing their licenses. The world economic crisis hadn't done any favors to the entertainment industry and although bigger companies were able to survive the hard times, even they considered the new possibilities in Excolopolis crucial to ending the recession.

  They all had firm promises from Steersman that the city would never see an off season. As industry took off in the city, the demand for additional international styles of leisure and entertainment took off too.

  The icing on the cake were a large number of smaller entrepreneurs representing the best and most authentic of their respective nations and doing business alongside the large entertainment companies operating in the district. Prominent chefs, confectioners, restaurant managers, hotel managers, craftsmen and performers flocked from all over the world to be a part of the cultural revolution taking place, each contributing to the authenticity and the sheer beauty of creation.

  The feast

  On the ninth of November the winter season officially arrived, kicking off in the so called Commercial district between the Business quarter and the new International district. The celebration was the perfect opportunity to present Excolopolis for the first time since its inception. The city facilities had an enormous capacity, able to cater for and host up to one and half million visitors. The weather was pleasant and everyone was out on
the streets.

  Steersman appeared from nowhere. The security detail were escorting their client up close and personal. They knew exactly whom they were guarding and the level of danger that it entailed.

  Each soldier felt the adrenalin beginning to build. There was no room for error, and each of them knew that one mistake would mean they wouldn't even be put on guard duty in the waste management plant.

  On the day of the celebration, the security detail leader met with the client himself to run through the route and discuss when and for how long they would be able to blink. Everything was planned down to the last microscopic details.

  The leader calmly reassured Steersman that they were fully ready for the event.

  Sean Steersman himself had paid a great deal of attention to the organization of the celebration, making sure that, for 96 hours, the entire world would focus its attention on Excolopolis, and be dazzled.

  Of course, his little invention was obsessively fixed in the minds of the concerned CEOs of industrial giants, but Steersman knew that making the general public aware of where the strange news was coming from, making them aware of Excolopolis as a real place and not a weird legend, was just as important.

  Steersman was chasing dreams, and few truly understood what it was that he was trying to do. He was almost divinely convinced that people had to be made to understand, even thought they might lose their jobs because of the resulting global industrial changes, that the technology would eventually make their lives better and easier. But they also had to realize that it wasn't going to be an easy ride.

  *

  Karen was happy about the festival, not only because it would bring some light relief into the daily stress of work, but also because her parents were visiting. They arrived on the morning of the opening and she picked them up from the airport. She hadn't seen them for what had seemed like forever and she could see that time was beginning to leave its mark. Her father had put on some weight and her mother was looking somewhat more care-worn than usual. Despite that, they still looked great to Karen.

  “Hi, Dad. Hi Mom,” Karen said and hugged them both.

  “Hi, sweety, we're so happy to see you,” said her mother, hugging Karen.

  “Come on, I'll take you to the hotel. I booked the best suite for you,” said Karen with a smile.

  “How are you, Kari?” asked her dad. “You look great!”

  “I'm fine, Dad, and you?

  “Bored since I retired,” he answered, grimacing, “but I'm doing okay.”

  “I thought you'd get bored,” responded Karen, smiling. Her father had been working for a satellite manufacturer for his whole life. He loved his job, but after forty years of building satellites, he'd had to retire. Moreover, he was diagnosed with a heart problem that had required surgery in order to save his life. After long struggle, dealing with his boss and his health, he'd been forced to pass on his position to someone much younger and single.

  “What exactly is it that you do here?” he asked his daughter, rather formally, looking out of the company limousine window, watching the hustle and bustle of the commercial district.

  “I'm in charge of town development, Dad.”

  “Wasn't it better in Tokyo?”

  “It was different. Tokyo was great too, but this job is more … more of a challenge. Here there are more tangible results. What was disappointing about working in nano-technology was that you work for years on something that you can only observe via a monitor or a microscope. Here it's so different. Look round. Have you ever seen city like it?” Karen's enthusiasm started to break through.

  “Indeed I haven't. What's that chap called, the chap you work for, what's his name?”

  “Sean Steersman.”

  “You work with him, don't you?” her mother ask, curiously.

  “Yes, Mom, I'm his assistant. We work together,” Karen answered.

  “How together?” Mr Colella asked suggestively.

  “Jason! Stop it!” Mrs Colella scolded gently.

  “Okay, sorry,” he said turning towards his daughter, smiling. “I didn't mean to pry. I was just teasing.”

  “It's okay Dad,” answered Karen, with a laugh. Deep down she loved her Dad to bits, including his blunt manner. “I am so glad that you are here,” she said, turning to her mother. “Is everything okay with you both at home? I know we've hardly spoken lately but still ….”

  “It's okay, except … the house is going to repossessed!” she said tearfully.

  “Dora! We agreed that we wouldn't worry Karen with our problems, didn't we?” Mr Colella said softly.

  “What?! How?!” Karen spluttered in shock.

  “It's nothing. Don't worry, your mom has overreacted, as usual,” he said, trying to smooth things over.

  “Right, Jason. You think the bank wants to terminate the mortgage and let us live there for free?” exclaimed Mrs Colella, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.

  “Why does the bank want to foreclose on you? What is going on? If you need money, I can help. You know that, don't you,” said Karen worriedly.

  “No, darling, no. It's okay. We'll sort it all out. It's just that the operation cost a more than we had thought, and we are little behind with the installments, that is all, honey. We're negotiating a postponement of the payments with the bank, so don't worry.”

  “How much are you behind?” asked Karen.

  “Look, it doesn't matter, really …”

  “Five months!” sobbed Mrs Colella.

  “Jesus … why didn't you tell me? I can help Mom, all you had to do is ask,” Karen said with some exasperation.

  “We know you are busy and we didn't want to bother you. That's why we didn't say anything,” Mrs Colella looked at her husband.

  “We'll deal with it, as always,” her dad said quietly.

  “I can't believe that you get into such trouble, and say nothing to me?!” said Karen, hurt and a little frustrated. I'm not a little girl anymore!

  The limousine turned into an avenue lined with luxury hotels and finally came to a smooth stop outside the Four Season's hotel. Karen showed her parents into the hotel and helped them check-in, then left them to freshen up and relax while she went on to continue the arrangements for the evening's events. At Karen's signal, the limousine pulled away from the curb and Karen sat back, her mind ticking over furiously. It was true that they hadn't met in ages, but she felt hurt that her parents felt they couldn't turn to her for help. It hadn't even crossed their minds to tell her what was going on. Did they feel she couldn't cope, or that they weren't important to her. She wanted so badly help them. She wanted to be near them … but how?

  *

  At 8:00pm, the dark city sky was painted with colored light. City towers glistened like crystal insects in the ivy blue floodlighting and the Business quarter, reflecting its glow on the night sky, shone like a jewel. The music of the world's most iconic pop stars and rock bands could be heard in two dozen different venues. In the chilly evening air, free food and drinks were being served, and open air heaters were provided to keep the crowd warm and the atmosphere building.

  The city police had plenty to do directing those who misunderstood the term hospitality. If anyone got out of hand they quickly found themselves being escorted to the city limits, their belongings boxed up and labeled, to be sent on after them.

  Steersman found that he was forced to follow the safety protocol provided by the security detail leader to the letter. The success of each plan always largely depended on the clients behavior, which meant that the security company made sure the client always understood his or her responsibilities. Lives could depend on it.

  “Mr Steersman, as we have informed you, it has been recommended that your speech be no longer than fifty-five seconds,” the security detail commander quickly informed Steersman in the presence of his twenty agents. His experience could be felt in his every move, and his voice betrayed that he had been a professional soldier. Although middle aged, the man was in such terrific s
hape that he could have easily taken on ten men in defense of his client.

  One glimpse of him was enough for a potential attacker to have second thoughts. Only a deluded weirdo or fanatic would do that.

  The possibility of a direct attack was the last thing the security company were worried about, however. They were more concerned with protecting this client from unseen danger. The company's main strength lay in gathering intelligence and then acting upon it, but with Steersman they had their work cut out. They'd been working for weeks with all the stops pulled out, though, and eventually they found something.

  “All right,” said Steersman, walking along the preplanned route through the International district.

  He had already met and greeted many people, turned up at almost every one of the renowned eateries, made famous by the work of culinary artists: French and Japanese restaurants, Italian and Austrian pastry shops, American bars and steakhouses, English tea houses, Spanish wineries, an incredible array of choice from the world's great gastronomic traditions.

  At times he talked to complete strangers and it seemed that all of the visitors to Excolopolis loved the atmosphere. Walking from one national area to another was like stepping into a completely different world of taste, smell and sound that made the senses reel.

  Karen joined her boss in the English area. She'd picked her parents up at the hotel one hour before, spent some time with them slowly wandering along the lake side and then she had finally left them at one of the restaurants to have some fun.

  “How are your parents?” asked Steersman.

  “Having a great time, if I know them. They'll probably spend the evening partying at a restaurant,” answered Karen smiling.