“Sounds good to me,” said Karen smiling. ”I'll get tickets then, shall I?”
“Get quite a few. We will give them out as gifts, but make sure ours are for a separate night.”
“Okay, will do. Oh, by the way, Miss Broadcasting called. She was asking when could you spare some time for her.”
“When we are done with the factory opening.”
“I'll let her know. Hopefully this one doesn't end up in chaos, like the last one,” she added, almost reproachfully.
“I don't intend it to,” he replied, catching her meaning.
“Okay then, have a nice day,” said Karen cheerfully and the connection went silent.
*
Steersman paid a brief visit to the energy research department, where an equally important mission was being undertaken: to discover possible methods for generating electricity with DCG devices.
Department engineers were running the DCG spheres at highs speeds in a test chamber and were investigating the relative forces they exerted on each other.
“Neil, how are you getting on?” said Steersman unexpectedly from behind, making research engineer Neil Gibbs jump. Neil was in charge of the department.
“For now, we're looking for any signs that we are on the right track. We have managed to get them to circle each other but they're not generating energy yet,” answered Gibbs.
“We need documentation for every variation you test,” said Steersman.
“Yes sir. We're using the CCI system. Surprisingly, this morning we received a few suggestions from the system based on yesterday's results. Some of them we've found extremely interesting, so we are going to be trying them out.”
“Good! We have to be at the point where we are producing energy, however much, within the month. The important thing is to see if the idea works or not.”
“I have to say that this technology is certainly keeping the team on its toes. We're positive that it has many possibilities.”
“Yes, I think so too,” said Steersman. “We will definitely be able to get at least one useful concept out of it.”
Seclusion
Having left the energy research center, he headed towards a deserted outer area through the western passageway where, for now, only standby lights were on. In the north-west wing of the science center the second manufacturing plant had been completed, but officially there was nothing in the second sector yet and the com-network wasn't online either.
Inside a blind darkness awaited. Even without sight he felt the vastness surrounding him, so vast that sound didn't even echo back from the distant walls. Using a switching console hanging above him, he switched on lights over a distant, fenced area, that was covered by awnings. He walked over and stepped behind them.
Glass scaffolding stood in strict rows and on shelves there were hundreds of DCG spheres spinning in their stands. They were all of different sizes, but they were much smaller than the spheres that operated the vehicles that were being constructed. Some of them were a few centimeters in diameter, like glass marbles. They glowed softly from the inside and gave out a faint murmur of sound.
At the end of the scaffolding there was another tarpaulin that obscured something completely different from view. He pulled it aside and stepped past it into the gloom where he could still see spheres floating irregularly, each one attached to the next in strings of glowing beads that curved up into the blackness.
Another switch chased away the darkness as, one after another, lights that were fixed to a tripod lit up.
As the darkness fled, a bizarre sight emerged.
In the state they were in, the robot bodies were far from recognizable. Limbs were lying scattered on metal tables and bodies and heads were hanging from scaffolds, waiting to be assembled. Steersman removed the covers from two models that were standing at the back. They were ready. He had been experimenting with several design variations, one of which had barely any human characteristics. Instead of a head there was a flat, disc-like shape that was attached to a robust, curved frame. It didn't move with limbs, but rather on smoothly gliding tracks.
Gravity orbs glowed in holes at the extremities of the form, on the shoulder line and in place of vertebrae. Because of these, the robot was lighter than a child, and moved faster than any natural life-form on earth. They were coded PG, or personal bodyguard.
Steersman prepared the robot for testing. He wanted to run a test on number nine, but before doing so he ran a diagnostic analysis on the chest panel.
“PG-9, wake!” he ordered finally.
His terse voice command switched the machine into operation.
“PG-9, ready,” it resonated with a distorted hum.
The robot followed him a few steps behind, as he walked to the next machine.
“PG-10, wake!” he repeated the order to the second model, then marked himself with a red laser light.
“Target is active!” he said to PG-10.
The enemy test-robot moved forward, turned its disk-like head towards the target, stretched its frame upward and began to observe Steersman intently.
“Attack!” ordered Steersman.
The spheres embedded in the frame began to glow, increasing the anti-gravitational energy, and the machinery shot out like a bullet.
In answer, PG-9 jumped across like lightening to stand in front of Steersman, shielding him from attack. A grinding crash echoed across the space as the two parried, but destruction was inevitable with the collision between the robots causing wide ranging havoc. Although the surrounding environment was in ruins, Steersman remained safely standing on his position and thirty seconds later the enemy robot ceased to operate.
PG-9 was also unable to fulfill any further commands as it had been completely destroyed.
The test was successful.
Testing
That afternoon the entire test research staff moved outside to the simulation area to begin evaluation of each prototype. Fortunately, the weather was mild with a light breeze from west making conditions perfect for a lengthy session under the open sky.
Danny Hofferstein, the chief test engineer, was considered to be a true veteran in the world of high technology, his Formula-1 past raising him to an irreproachable professional level. Although these new vehicles were not nearly as powerful as his previous charges, the new technology had the attraction of being at the forefront of technology.
Hofferstein was somewhat concerned at the results of one of the tests, and was in the middle of a discussion with development engineers when Steersman arrived.
“Gentleman, what seems to be the problem?” he asked the engineers.
“The change in acceleration! It's too steep,” Hofferstein, who was looking a little harassed, said to Steersman.
“I was suggesting that we adjust the opening and closing speeds of the lamellas, though we did want a fast car,” said Alec Samuelson, apologetically.
“It accelerates too quickly?” asked Steersman.
“Yes, and … well, it decelerates too quickly also. It would be far too drastic for public roads. If ordinary vehicles were to mix with anti-gravitation vehicles then there would be chaos on the roads,” explained Hofferstein.
“Because these cars stop sooner than conventional, fuel-based vehicles, crashes would be inevitable, even in the case of humans with super fast reflexes. The other issue is of course the greater G-load.”
“Why not limit the speed of lamellas change to a safe maximum value, or do we need to install smaller drives?” asked Steersman.
The test engineer and the development manager looked at each other in silence.
“Smaller?” asked Samuelson.
“Yes, like this,” said Steersman, and he casually pulled a small sphere, a few centimeters in diameter, out of his pocket. He then let it float in the palm of his hand.
The scientist studied the ball with an ecstatic, almost childish glow of enthusiasm on his face and began to hum quietly to himself.
“Would it be able to move an objec
t that was almost one tonne?” Hofferstein asked.
“If there are sixteen of them, then it's possible,” said Steersman.
“But the chassis was made for four,” interjected Samuelson.
“Well … let's stick with the lamellas for now. Consider this plan B. Design a simulation that will show the effects of changes in sphere size on all parameters. From these tests I also want to know how much stronger and faster the vehicles are if the spheres are bigger. Is it directly proportional or an exponential increase? What are the limits? What else can we use them for?” he turned to the test engineer.
“Okay, consider it done.”
“And, test manufacturing starts in 48 hours,” Steersman informed them as he left.
Another interview
It was six in the evening when the media team appeared in Steersman's office. As they went in, their electronic devices became immediately inoperable. The building itself was surrounded by a field that disabled all electromagnetic radiation, blocking radio signals and disabling all electrical signals as long as Sean Steersman wanted them disabled, of course.
“I haven't seen you for ages,” Natalie greeted him, seemingly calmer and more balanced than she ever had before.
“How long has it been …? Half a year?” asked Steersman, smiling.
“Do you always neglect your friends so badly?” she teased.
“Only when I have to rebuild my life from scratch,” he said, wryly.
Natalie smiled back, her eyes resting for a moment on his face.
“Well, we sure went through a tough experience, didn't we?” she reflected.
“Yes, it's not something I'll forget lightly,” he added, “but as I hear it, it's been worth it for you: a Pulitzer prize, and so young … doesn't happen every day, does it?”
“Yeah, true, but I aged twenty years that night,” Natalie grimaced.
“You don't look a day older than thirty,” he joked, seeing the pain in Natalie's eyes, “But you … somehow … how can I put it, you look calmer I suppose. How are things?” he asked her.
“Good. Easier, I guess. I don't have to take every job that comes my way to prove myself, anymore. I went away on holiday to Bali for a while and I only got back a few months ago.”
“Good! I can see that it's given you some balance, seriously.”
Natalie was sitting on the sofa elegantly and next to her sat her new cameraman, who was nervous and obviously having trouble with the tripod.
“Where is Frank?” asked Steersman.
“Frank? Oh, he was sent to a Southern Chinese province, Guangxi or something. He's filming reports on the local gang war victims. He's gained quite a reputation, but he is driven. He can't bear not to be near some war zone or other,” Natalie replied. “I got him instead,” she nodded her head toward the young guy, “I hope the gear doesn't collapse,” she said rolling her eyes.
“I see.” Steersman smiled.
The young man was feeling more and more uncomfortable, and grunted in annoyance.
“Eddie, what is it!?” Natalie asked impatiently.
“Sorry, but I have no idea what's going on. It's not working! None of it!”
Natalie could do nothing but smile at Steersman, nodding.
“My darling one. It will not work until we start the interview. Calm down,” she said soothingly.
“It's not all that bad, is it?” Steersman said hopefully.
“Yeah, I suppose.” She looked at Eddie, who was still fumbling with the equipment. “You know, in the old days this would have driven me up the wall.”
When he was ready, Steersman turned off the electronic blocking system and the report began. In a blink, Natalie had turned from a chatty social butterfly into a highly professional journalist.
She was able to express herself with an elegance that few possessed, and nowadays she no longer needed any of her past false allure. She asked the usual questions about the changes, plans, and the press feedback on them, then she diverted the interview into more personal waters. She asked about his daily routine, where he ate dinner and how he spent his time. Steersman responded to those questions that felt comfortable with, but the answers to unwanted questions were shrouded in a vague fog of half answers and avoidance.
“Okay, let's go back to the science center,” said Natalie, finally giving up. “It's quite a bold undertaking. Building a city is one thing, but building a technological marvel is a completely different issue. We would like to be able to give it a name when we are talking about the science center.”
“What exactly do you wish to know, Natalie?” smiled Steersman.
“I'd like to know its name,” she said. “What is the scientific center going to be called?”
“Yes, I'm often chastised for not naming things …. Well, let's call it ASEC for now.”
“ASEC? I assume it's some sort of acronym ….”
“Don't ask me what it stands for, not just yet. You know, for some time I've been more careful,” Steersman prevented further questions.
“I see, but still, could you tell us a little about what is going on in this enormous complex?”
“Well, it's no secret. The ASEC is researching the, as yet, unexplored possibilities of Dark Core Gravity technology and it aims to make breakthroughs in areas of application that will allow our civilization to take a giant leap forward.”
“A giant leap forward? Could you explain that?”
“It will place in the hands of human kind the opportunity to change and move toward forward development instead of present race in increased demand for quantity. The question is whether we are ready to face that change, ready to take the opportunity.”
“I assume that you already know the answer to that question, don't' you?” said Natalie. “And you do all this in the interests of human kind? There is no personal interest behind all this?”
“What do you mean?” Steersman asked.
“Well, money and power usually come with some form of self-interest. Many people might rightly believe that you are manufacturing something that gives you a tool to manipulate or abuse them.”
“It's clear where we're going with this. I cannot say anything other than the time will come when people will think differently of ASEC.”
“ASEC” she repeated. “I think we can all begin to guess the meaning of these four letters. You really could just tell us.”
“I am sorry,” he said, smiling.
“Well, Mr Steersman, thank you for your time,” Natalie brought the conversation to a close, knowing that that was all she would get out of him for now.
“Miss Garner, it was my pleasure.”
The dinner
As Natalie and her erstwhile camera operator left the building, a renowned French restaurant deployed its personnel. Burnell Chauvet, the world famous three diamond chef, rushed to the office to meet the unusual and bountiful orders that Steersman's staff had placed. The restaurant was directed by Olivia Carroll, who had previously managed some of the highest level luxury hotels in the world, and from whom it was impossible to ask the impossible. If needed, she could organize dinner on the Moon, as long as her client was able to pay. In short, organizing lavish business catering in an office was, for her, nothing more than a gentle stretch between two yawns. Olivia had also sent interior decorators who made sure that the high standard of the French restaurant was ensured on site.
Karen was also invited to dinner. She was at home, getting ready. She fed her Japanese ornamental carp, got into her car and drove to the hotel where the professor was already waiting for her in the lobby. He was dressed in a low-key style; a well cut grey suit made from high quality textile, noticeable only to those who knew something of fashion. It was not fashion, however, that gave him style, but rather his accessories and the way he wore them that made him unique. His jacket was draped over one arm, in his hand rested a rosewood cane that reminded Karen of a magic wand.
Karen took it all in and then discovered something that made her smile: the pro
fessor's footwear. He was wearing the same canvas sneakers that he wore as paced up and down the lecture theater, while passionately explaining concepts and ideas to his students.
The long time friends greeted each other, and they headed towards the science center as they reminisced. Crossing the security barrier took no more than half a minute, after which they went through an underground causeway and arrived at the tower elevator. At exactly seven, staff ushered the guests into Steersman's office.
Steersman was already waiting and hurried to meet them with a big smile on his face.
“Professor Hashimoto, it is truly an honor to personally meet you.” Steersman bowed, and shook hands with the Professor.
“Mr Steersman, it is also an honor to meet the man who can stir up the deep, tranquil waters of the scientific community,” the professor said, his voice resonating with a palpable spiritual power, his accent adding to the aura of respect. His small stature and gray-white hair made him resemble a wise man from legend. His gaze, however, did not seem like the gaze of a man who sat cross legged meditating and creating miracles. He gave the impression of a solid man firmly grounded in reality.
“Karen, good evening! You look beautiful.” Steersman turned to look at her. She did indeed look amazing. The black Donna Karen dress outlined her stunning figure; a figure that was usually hidden behind the facade of a gray business suit. Her make up and hair added the finishing touches to her already breathtaking appearance.
“Why, thank you.” She smiled.
“Please, be seated,” he said, gesturing to the waiter, who helped the guests to take their places.
“What a remarkable choice of venue for a dinner engagement,” noted the Professor, looking round the office that had been transformed into a French country restaurant. “Though, I must say, it is much more interesting.” His smile emphasized his facial features even more.
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