The film contained a fast sequence that showed a GlideCraft accelerating rapidly in extreme conditions. Meanwhile, the image sequences diverged from the present and into the past. Barely noticeable hints of former civilizations began to appear, with objects, buildings and people and finally, the road wound through lava flows and ancient moorlands. The camera circled the vehicle 360 degrees as the view cut from picture to picture. The film was enhanced with euphoric Indian music that had been remixed into a modern pastiche that fit perfectly with the increasing tension of the film. Then, all pictures and sound suddenly disappeared, only an echo remained, like a final catharsis.
The lights came back on in the room.
“Whose idea was the music?” asked Steersman. No one in the room could decide whether Steersman liked it or not.
“I'm afraid it was mine,” answered Trenerry, a little worried.
“Perfect!” said Steersman. “So much so that it will be worth working around this music. I want you to conceptualize the ASEC name. The GlideCraft is just the beginning. We do not just produce consumer goods, we have a mission! We are going to put things right in the minds of the public. I hope you are all up to it.”
“We are on it, Mr Steersman,” answered Trenerry, confidently.
Steersman thought for a moment, then continued, “I want you to organize an exhibition for all of the worlds car manufacturers to show their vehicles built with DCG drives. Plan it and get it organized. From our part, we will build the venue.”
“You want them to compete within the frame of an exhibition?” Trenerry looked enthusiastic.
“Exactly. The manufacturer with the model that wins the most awards will receive four million units of the drive as a reward. Work out all of the angles that we'll need to take into consideration: what channels we'll use for the voting, who will make the final decisions, public opinion, teams of specialists, everything. Work it out to the last detail and I'll want daily reports.”
“Yes, Mr Steersman, all totally clear.”
With that, the meeting ended, and Steersman left the room.
Premier in the city
By the 8:00pm on May 15, 2076, huge crowds had begun gather so that they could get the best places at the opening parade. At half past eight the GlideCraft vehicles that would be available for purchase would officially be presented to the public.
Within a short time of its founding, the ASEC had come to be considered the major employer in Excolopolis. At that moment, all of the intellectual energy of the entire staff was concentrated in this task. Everyone worked as one on the success of the GlideCraft – each in their own way and in their own area of expertise.
This time Steersman had remained in the background for several reasons. Firstly, he didn't want customer attention to be diverted elsewhere, especially now that he went nowhere without his bodyguards; and he also wanted to push the ASEC brand to the front and not brand Steersman.
As the new name still sounded unfamiliar and in the minds of the public was as yet unconnected with activities in the outside world, so ASEC was slowly beginning to involve itself in projects that had a global effect. Even labor recruitment was already up and running under the ASEC banner for the vehicle manufacturing plant in sector one, which took up a significant part of the entire center: three large hexagonal areas adjoined another hexagonal central area from three of its sides.
Jamie Ryder, the vehicle manufacturing director, had not met his family too often over the past months, often not even going home to sleep. His wife had only been able to bear her husband's absence with difficulty, especially that they were only a few kilometers apart, and as time went by, she had become more and more affected by it. Her behavior showed some colorful changes, but now that she was finally able to see some tangible results of her husband's work, she felt a surge of pride and a lifting of the burden of loneliness; she only wished she could tell him personally.
Sean Steersman was very well aware of what he required from his staff. The higher the pressure he put on the individual, the more prominent the attention that person received from him. He had more tools up his sleeve than pure financial remuneration. On his orders, the workers of ASEC were cared for like Persian princes by the service staff. During this period, everyone worked eighteen hours a day, broken only by sequences of mental and physical regeneration using programs that were highly recommended for anyone employed under ASEC development policies.
For Jim Hols, there was an endless queue of construction projects that awaited him. Once he had finished the follow up work on the science center's development and production buildings, he hastily pulled up a staff training and equipment center in the south-west wing of ASEC, where recruitment and educational programs for specialists and staff were now based.
All processes ran parallel to each other and, as more and more work joined the queue, Sean Steersman started to get really warmed up, even when the ground seemed to be slipping out from under everyone else's feet. He could see further than the current problems and wanted to document this day for humanity because he knew, as sure as anything, that it was something to celebrate for every human being on the planet, even if it was totally contrary to the interests of many.
*
The city was bathed in a sea of light by eight-thirty that evening. The colors that flowed around the gigantic buildings of the Business district created a spectacular, breathtaking vision. At that moment, the details of those lights truly captured the world's attention.
Thousands of GlideCrafts hovered in ranks along the city streets surrounded by the masses, people touching, stroking and staring. The interest of all flowed uncontrollably, caught up along with the superbly organized presentation. Many rejoiced and gave themselves up to the novelty of the experience. There were those who stood, with mixed feelings, on the edge of the events and silently watched the vehicles, but no one was left feeling indifferent.
Various events marked the big day: drag races, obstacle courses, virtuoso demonstrations of technical driving. Meanwhile, the bizarrely quiet hum that the vehicles made aroused strange feelings in many, a sound that they would soon become accustomed to in place of the familiar roar of combustion engines. This thought rippled through the audience, only for a moment, but it affected everyone.
With so many GlideCraft present, the one in which Steersman and Karen went to the concert venue swept through the streets unnoticed. They were heading to the Diamond Hall, where the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra was performing Beethoven's 2nd and 7th Symphonies. Following them were two GlideCrafts that were packed with guards. These vehicles were constructed with reinforced materials and equipped with information protection systems that made them essentially invisible to curious eyes.
“It feels a bit like sitting in a spaceship,” observed Karen, cheerfully. There was nothing casual about the interior; the usual angles and curves, so characteristic of passenger vehicles, were missing. It was like a large oval bubble, the interior lined with black silken material that enhanced the elegance. It was spacious enough for passengers to move from the front to the back seat.
The control console flowed across the width of the interior, with a number of unusual shaped monitors that transmitted information, mainly from outside the vehicle, but also showing the technical status of the car. The lights gently shone, back lit with hidden mood lights that only served to further enhance the experience.
“Have you been in many spaceships, Karen?” Steersman asked with a twinkle.
Karen pulled sour face, but she didn't allow him to get to her. She was having great time and she liked the fact that, at last, she could see the results of their efforts. Those horrible months of stress mixed with uncertainty and, at times, danger that had put everyone's positions and lives at stake were finally justified. She didn't want to think of the past. This was the beginning of the future. She looked out through convex window and could see the whole city, shining brightly, a hive of intense activity, it was the ultimate oblivion.
I have n
ever seen anything like it in my entire life, she thought to herself. “Even during the Olympics they don't make this much fuss,” she said aloud.
“Olympics? Hmm, that's not a bad idea. We could organize it,” Steersman continued facetiously. “You're full of great ideas tonight, Karen! We could even have it on a giant spaceship, don't you think?”
“Yeah, why not?” Karen said casually, joining in.
Steersman smiled.
“I'm curious, how many of these have been ordered so far?” Karen asked.
“Well, so far, we have received orders for fifty million.”
“That many?!” she turned to face him in surprise.
“Well, it seems to increase by one million a minute,” said Steersman.
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed.
“The orders are rolling in nicely, mainly from the Far East and South America where, by the way, they are fairly preoccupied with developing vehicles of their own. Imagine that?” he feigned surprise.
“There's lot of potential in those countries and they develop quickly because of their ingrained community awareness, especially if they have the opportunity. If only the environmental damage wasn't so high there,” Karen said solemnly.
“We are going to change all of that, Karen, in this generation.”
Karen remained silent. Somehow, tonight, she could not doubt anything. Especially with this man, at whom she shot furtive looks of admiration. He was still as inscrutable as the very first time they met, but now it did not worry her. She accepted that there was only one person able to keep up with Sean Steersman, and that was the mastermind himself.
“Tonight's performance promises to be interesting,” said Karen, abruptly changing the subject. “Artyom Georgiev is conducting. If his Russian name is anything to go by, I imagine he will be performing something by Tchaikovsky.”
“I'm sure he'll want to try something different, understandably,” observed Steersman.
“Quite possibly,” replied Karen.
“Do we have any news from the Professor?”
“Hashimoto?” Karen asked.
“Yes. Has he been in touch?”
“No, not yet. If I am right, then his courses for the new semester have been moved to a new building which will mean that he's rather busy right now,” said Karen.
“No need to find excuses for him. If he doesn't take the job, which is regrettable of course, it won't be a problem for us. If he doesn't get in touch by the time we have finished with the GlideCraft campaign, we'll find someone else.”
“Don't you think that the demonstration was perhaps a little over the top?” Karen asked.
“You know, Karen, at times, your legendary positive insight can become a little negative?”
“I know, Sean. I can't help it. It has helped me survive professionally.” Karen secretly felt slightly ashamed. She resolved never to show her doubts to her boss. She simply could not afford to. She tried to regain her previous good mood, with only partial success.
The car turned into a private courtyard at the rear of the Diamond Hall, where guards were already waiting for them. When all three vehicles had stopped, the bodyguards jumped out and had already surrounded Steersman's vehicle before the hall guard could get near.
The guards recoiled at the sight of the giants towering over them, and they all stepped back. They watched in silence as the director of the Concert Hall hurried to meet his guests and escort them into the building along with the bodyguards. They quickly disappeared through the door.
“What kind of monsters are they?” One of the guards turned to his commander.
“Machines. We were informed that they'd be coming, but I had no idea that they'd be that big!”
“Makes you wonder what they can do?”
“I'm pretty sure they can do their job,” said the commander, drily. “Just like us. Everyone get to their positions! Mr Steersman may not require our protection in the building, but everyone else does. Get to work!” he shouted.
Inside, the giant shell-like concert hall was almost full. There were eight separate tiers layered on top of each other. Throughout the massive space, the surfaces were inlaid with exquisite mother of pearl, pastel shell colors and motifs. The hall clearly owed its name to the chandeliers that floated above them resembling millions of brilliantly cut diamonds. The splendor of the crystal clear light flooded the room.
Steersman and Karen – his elegant escort for the evening – seated themselves in the royal box, in the middle level. Two armchairs had been prepared for them, overlooking the stunning spectacle. In every corner the guards stood rigidly to attention.
The lights dimmed and the orchestra began to tune. A chattering murmur began to sweep through the hall as many people in the audience looked towards Steersman's box, curious glances raining in from all sides.
“I'm beginning to think that they came to collect gossip for tomorrows office chat, rather than to hear the music,” Karen noted quietly.
“They are practicing that most useful, yet annoying of human characteristics: curiosity. There is a thin line between useful and annoying, the difference being intention. It is a shame that there is no nuanced word to describe the desire to explore.”
“Yes, it would be useful.”
The sounds of the orchestra trailed off into a few moments silence, then ecstatic applause greeted Artyom Georgiev as he entered and made his way to the podium. He bowed three times to the audience and then once in the direction of the royal box.
Karen almost giggled in embarrassment.
Luckily, the stirring sounds of Beethoven quickly washed away unwanted thoughts, and by the interval she no longer cared about the surrounding world anymore, but by then, no one was looking at them.
The external factor
Outside, the world was spinning and people were madly buying up the GlideCraft models, paying in cash just to be at the top of the waiting list. Thousands placed multiple orders, and there were those who would have immediately taken the demonstration models, but they were destined for disappointment when they found that a proportion of the show models were to be sent to car manufacturers, and the others were to distributed among the population of Excolopolis.
By midnight, global orders exceeded three hundred million and – as it meant immediate income for the ASEC – it was a huge injection of capital for further operations.
In the morning, huge orders were being sent to the interior pod suppliers, who had come back with very unfavorable delivery times. The ASEC, considering such delays untenable, acted.
Steersman visited the factory personally and made the shareholders a takeover offer to which no sane person could have said no.
“Your offer is overwhelming indeed, Mr Steersman,” confessed Dylen Rentz, one of the factory's owners.
Steersman was sitting in a glass-walled conference room that boasted a panoramic view of an artificial waterfall and a perfectly groomed garden. A busy highway could be seen in the distance, and a water reservoir tower stood in the fields with a large flock of birds circling above it.
“We did not establish this company with the long term intention of building it up and selling it,” said Boris Tharp.
“Gentlemen, it's not a matter of whether you accept my offer or not. The question is rather whether or not you can get out of it. Trust me, we can build a company from scratch, right down to the last nut and bolt, but what is most important to me is time. As time is something that you cannot give me,” said Steersman seriously, “I have no choice other than to buy you out.”
The two owners looked at each other, their faces showing the vexation they both felt at the situation. They had founded the plant two years before and had dedicated so much time and energy to ASEC orders that there had hardly been time for any other work. Of course, as a result of the business ASEC had brought them, they could live like kings for eternity, but they could not carry out the fast growth and development that was needed right now.
“You leave us no option,
Mr Steersman,” Rentz said finally, with a sigh.
“As a matter of fact, you didn't leave me any either. With the two million interior cabins being manufactured yearly at the moment, it would take us one hundred and fifty years to satisfy current demand,” Steersman summed up. “Look, you are experienced managers and it is obvious that you have invested your dreams in this company. I respect that, but from the money you would have coming you could build far more of these plants than you began with.”
“Yes, but selling the company would mean losing employees and their expertise, and we need both to start over,” argued Rentz.
“I have another suggestion,” said Tharp. “Why don't you consider the amount you have offered us as more of an investment? We could use it to expand the factory so that we could meet your deadlines.”
“There's something else I have to take into consideration. I can no longer afford any external risk factors that I have no control over to cause disruptions.”
“Risk factors?” repeated Tharp.
“If it were just about the money, trust me, it would be easier,” said Rentz
“All right. Let's look at other possibilities,” said Steersman, suddenly changing tack. “Your company could merge with ASEC, in cooperation with vehicle manufacturing of course, but as an independent unit. You will have no need to deal with acquisition any more, just with development and production.”
“That sounds feasible,” said Rentz, thoughtfully.
“Not to me it doesn't. Thanks, but no thanks!” Tharp shook his head.
“Then you will get your money,” offered Steersman.
After a few moment thought Tharp nodded, “Okay, it is a deal.”
“Agreed then. The moving trucks are already on their way. I suggest we talk to your people about the upcoming changes.”
Excolopolis_Poles of Enforcement Page 14
