Excolopolis_Poles of Enforcement

by Jack L. Marsch

  “I see. And what do you want in return for your generous offer?”

  “Profit, of course. Seventy percent of profits after each vehicle sold.”

  “Ha … you are rather bold …. Anyway, you want to tell me that all you wish to receive in return for your monetary support is to be a silent partner in my enterprise?”

  “Yeah, something like that. You are the company director. All you have to do is to be the best in the industry.”

  “I still can't understand why you would trust me so much that you are willing to throw such a huge sum of money at me?”

  “The world of money works differently,” said Hoey, “but it would be better if you were clear on one thing. There is an important condition you have to be aware of: if the company does not make profit, the investment will disappear as quickly as it came. That is all, and it is up to you.”

  “Okay boys, I'll sleep on it and give you an answer by tomorrow.”

  “Here's my number. Please call me if you have any questions. We'll get back to you tomorrow.” Vincent Hester handed him his card.

  “Molto buono,” the Italian thanked him.

  The city darkens

  That evening, Mr Pagnotto held a family meeting to discuss the offer, and the following morning he also conferred with his closest colleagues and decided to hire a reputable law firm to screen the contract.

  Their lawyer had arrived by evening and at eight o'clock was welcoming his client and the two businessmen into the hotel room. While he was reading through the nearly hundred-page document to make sure of its legality, the three other men stood by the corner bar, from which a bottle of twenty-five-year-old malt whiskey had appeared.

  “I find it strange that since you left I haven't received a single offer,” said Mr Pagnotto.

  “Were you perhaps waiting for anyone in particular?” asked Hester.

  “As I had not made up my mind, I would have listened to further offers from anyone.”

  “We felt that you might find our terms convincing.” Hoey smiled.

  “And you made sure that no one else bothered me?” Mr Pagnotto said with a sideways glance.

  “Anyway, I'm sure that there weren't any worthy offers,” said Hester.

  “You do not have such word in your dictionary as ‘defeat’, do you gentlemen?” said Mr Pagnotto.

  At that point, the lawyer cleared his throat, indicating that he had finished reviewing the material, and looked at them over his spectacles.

  They all sat down.

  “Firstly, it is a clear and transparent contractual document,” the lawyer began, somewhat wearily. “I didn't come across any of the usual twists, and the cross-references are all quite clear. I assume that you have clarified that the contract has no time limit. This contract cannot be terminated. It remains in effect until the company is closed down, or becomes invalid in the case of a breach of contract.”

  “Yes, we have clarified the time stipulations,” said Mr Pagnotto.

  “The only thing that could be discussed in more detail is the allocation of responsibility,” he said, looking at his client.

  “What did you find?” asked Mr Pagnotto.

  “In the absence of a financial return the attendant consequences are rather disproportionate. This contract states that Mr Pagnotto gives up his patent rights, and also the right of disposal over his designs.”

  “Oh, no. That has to be removed gentlemen. It will not do, at all,” Mr Pagnotto said curtly.

  “As the company management will remain in Mr Pagnotto's hands, this is safety clause in the contract to reassure the investor that Mr Pagnotto won't make any deals behind the investor's back that could endanger return on the investment.”

  “First of all, I do not believe that – from time to time – you will not butt in with your, so to say, ‘suggestions’,” said Mr Pagnotto, making quotation marks in the air with his rather calloused fingers. “Secondly, there are external factors that I have no control of, and last, but certainly not least, I would be the last man to allow my business to collapse – more so than even the investors themselves. So, if there is no trust boys, then there won't be a deal. Simple as that.”

  The two businessmen did not even exchange a glance, but the same thought went through their minds. They gave themselves a few moments to run through all of the possible scenarios.

  “Okay! We will remove this clause from the contract. Our lawyers will send you the revised version to your office,” said Hester to the lawyer.

  “Then sirs, if I understand it correctly, you have come to an agreement. I congratulate you on your deal, Mr Pagnotto,” said the lawyer in tones of mixed joy and apathy.

  “Grazie! Let's drink to that!” shouted Castore Pagnotto.

  At that moment, blind darkness descended on the room. The men didn't move for a few seconds, in surprise.

  “What is that?” asked the lawyer.

  Dustin Hoey stood up from his seat and walked to the window.

  “Power failure … over the whole city,” he established.

  Indeed, every building in Excolopolis was shrouded in darkness, with the only light in the city coming from the vehicles going up and down the now shadowy streets.

  After ten minutes, it was still only a nuisance, but after the first hour it had begun to cause an unsettling confusion in the city's operation. Long-term power outages occurred rarely in whole cities as there were usually reserve networks that at least partially restored power supplies. Staff in hotels and office buildings were able to rescue people trapped in elevators, using their own emergency generators, but it was not enough to restore full power.

  It was more than just a simple power failure; something else was behind it. In addition to ASEC had been left unexplained for a full hour, the increasing pressure prompted the organization to put its resources into action. Plan B was ready to go, but the only problem was that it had never been tested.

  Crisis management

  Oliver Trenerry hurried to the crisis meeting where plans were being quickly formulated. Inside the room Steersman was agreeing on some of the details with the energy research unit manager, Neil Gibbs. Having seen Oliver Trenerry, Steersman cut it short.

  “What did you manage to find out?” Steersman asked the former intelligence agent.

  “It's a sabotage campaign. The coordinated actions of an unknown group has paralyzed the seven different power distribution depots. Separately, it wouldn't have caused any trouble, but with the elimination of all of them there's been hell to pay. Excolopolis was clearly the target.”

  “… and of course, the DCG Expo,” added one of the vehicle development engineers.

  “Quite possibly,” said Alec Samuelson.

  “The IRD has been instructed to find members of the group and I will shortly be receiving their reports,” stated Trenerry.

  “Right. Now we have one job to do: provide the city with electricity. In the past year, the energy unit has got close to a revolutionary breakthrough in the construction of a one hundred percent clean power generation plant. The only problem is that it's never been tested in real conditions. Tests show that – at the current possible plant work load – six more such plants should be installed in the city to provide its entire electricity needs.”

  “That's a lot, it certainly can't be executed within 24 hours,” said Gibbs.

  “Maybe, but we have to get one working within the hour, and it will be done from the ASEC research center.”

  “From here?” asked Trenerry.

  “Yes. Using our own grid-system, we'll feed electricity to the urban grid. Basically, the current direction will be reversed. Until then, unfortunately, the ASEC …” Gibbs dropped his voice and looked Steersman. “The ASEC will be virtually crippled until further prototypes are made in the factory.”

  “Is there any chance of returning to the usual power supply?”

  “Engineers from the electricity companies are assessing the damage, but they say that the power plants will be out o
f action for a couple of days. It looks like someone knew what they were doing and have damaged some very sensitive sections.”

  “A few days … that's unacceptable,” said Steersman. “From this moment, every unit is to be at a state of full alert. I'm ordering the DCG drive factory to make an immediate switch to production of the cores required to assemble power generation plants.”

  “Consider it done,” said Jamie Ryder.

  “I would ask every manager to work where they can be of most use until the power supply is stable.”

  All those present at the meeting signaled their assent.

  “What is the situation in the city? What are conditions like?” asked Karen, who had been silently observing the meeting.

  “According to Police Chief Summers, there is no panic. Any attempts at break-ins and other incidents have been handled routinely. Every one of our men is out there in the city. They help where they can,” said Trenerry.

  “If I've been informed correctly, there has been one case of arson?”

  “Yes, fortunately only a GlideCraft. Firefighters found the perpetrators at the scene and Moses Stout, the fire chief, personally held one of them down. His men are out there working closely with police.”

  “Excellent.”

  “They'll hold on as long as it takes, but they request that we have this mess sorted out as soon as possible.”

  “Well, let's get it done! This meeting is over. Let's get to work everyone, and get the first Gravitor started as soon as it's ready,” said Steersman decisively.

  “Gravitor?!” everyone looked around in surprise.

  “Yes, Gravitor. The new name for power generation plants made with anti-gravity technology. We will need to increase the speed of research and development too. The goal is to be able to place them wherever we want them as soon as possible,” Steersman shot back over his shoulder as he left the room.

  They all looked at each other but remained silent; they knew that things would be as they had to be. By the time they had accepted the idea, Steersman was already hurrying along the blind tunnel towards the second sector.

  “Karen, do you have any idea what Steersman is up to?” Trenerry asked Karen from behind.

  “What do you mean?” She turned to face him.

  “I have a feeling that there's something he's not telling us,” he growled.

  “Well, if you feel that then why don't you talk to him personally?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so … I will next time I see him,” he answered and followed the others out.

  Prototype

  Over the previous nine months, Neil Gibbs had already tested the first complete power plant prototype countless times at the energy research unit, and he was still at it when Oliver Trenerry caught up with him. Gibbs addressed him without turning.

  “It has been operating at level two for a month now, and it seems stable.”

  “Is that going to be enough?”

  “Not at all. To produce a sufficient amount of electricity we need to run it at least level four, but I believe that to provide the whole city we'll need the maximum, level five, and it will have to remain completely stable.”

  “Then, can we switch it into the third level?” asked Trenerry.

  Gibbs gave the communications expert, who clearly had no idea what he was talking about, a look of irritation. The feeling quickly passed however, and Gibbs realized that any further delay was just a waste of time, so he ordered the third stage to be initiated.

  The whirring noise increased slightly and a rhythmic popping sound joined it. On the power level display the numbers began to rise.

  “Oh my!” Gibbs gasped.

  “What? What is it?!?”

  “We are on the verge of two thousand megawatts and the gravitor stage three is only reaching its operational level now.”

  “Is it stable?” asked Trenerry. He looked at the power-plant mounting above him, standing on a triform amoeba-like base. The walls, except for the rounded top, were completely transparent; and inside it, more than a thousand gravitational spheres of differing sizes were circling and weaving seemingly irregular paths. At the base of the Gravitor, energy was supplied by a generator turbine that was driven by the spheres.

  “At the moment, it is sitting at about 2400 megawatts,” said Gibbs. “With that we can get started. Please, inform Mr Steersman.”

  “I don't know where he is at the moment. I'll call Karen, perhaps she knows,” said Trenerry, and he rushed off.

  Gibbs kept on going through the data, checking and re-checking, not wanting to believe his eyes. He knew that with the increase in size there would be an exponential increase in recoverable energy, but then a speed increase caused the indicators to jump frantically.

  For a moment, he left his role as a scientist and stood staring at the glowing orange tower with childlike amazement, as if it was some sort of natural wonder.

  “What's happening, Gibbs?” Steersman broke in on his thoughts.

  “Ah, Mr Steersman. Looks like Trenerry found you.”

  “No, he didn't. Some of building sensors recorded vibrations.”

  “We brought the power plant up to level three. At the moment it is producing almost two and a half gigawatts.”

  “A good start. Have you run the sphere binding analysis?”

  “Yes, except for in the lower stage, where we used a different binding, everything is stable. As a matter of fact, it's as if it were stronger as a result of the increase in speed, but only in this binding mode.”

  “Switch off the lower stage!”

  “Okay … it's off now. The output declined to two gigawatts”

  “Okay, now then, switch it up to stage four.”

  “Four?!”

  “Yes, you heard, four. Let's see what happens!”

  Gibbs had a tendency to dislike using untested methods and he looked at the power plant with a glazed look of doubt in his eyes, then ordered the system switched one level higher. The increasing vibrations that occurred were not only noticeable to the sensitive sensor devices in the building. The ground began to vibrate disturbingly under their feet. It wasn't too loud, but the earlier knocking sound had washed out and morphed into a lower rumble.

  The engineer froze and Steersman had to poke him in the side to bring him back to his senses.

  “How much is it producing now?”

  “Pardon?” he asked, starting suddenly.

  “What's the output?”

  Gibbs read the values, blinked and then double-checked them again.

  “It's eight thousand megawatts!” he croaked in excitement, his voice slowly being drowned out by the increasing noise.

  “Get your people together. We are going to start the Gravitor up for real,” said Steersman. “We have enough energy for a small country now.”

  “Our internal network won't be able to handle it. We'll need to re-route it onto the subordinate system,” said the scientist, looking increasingly worried.

  “It's solvable. I'll organize routing, just tell me where we need it set up, and it will be there within ten minutes,” said Steersman.

  “It'll be fine along the avenue running past ASEC. Anywhere there would be good, as that's where the main line runs,” replied the engineer, but he could not even begin to speculate how Steersman was going to make it happen.

  “Set the voltage and put breakers in place. I do not want it to ruin anything. When that's done, come to the site!”

  “Of course,” he answered, but by then Steersman had left in the same manner as he had come.

  Gibbs had no idea how they'd be able to transport a twenty-five meter high, one and a half ton piece of equipment. They had never planned to move it at all, and certainly not in ten minutes. What kind of madness is this? he thought.

  He had no time to dwell on it because the roof of the prototype plant stirred. Over the Gravitor-I, the entire vault slipped to one side, like a giant armored plate. A huge beast of a machine hovered in the sky above, and had it not obscur
ed it, the sky would have been visible. It gave out a screaming sound as it suddenly moved into position. A blinding white light prevented anyone determining its shape. One thing was sure, it was hovering. Another ray of light, something quite different, encircled the power plant and drew a vibrant green ring of light around it.

  Neil Gibbs took a step backward and tripped. He remained on the ground as the plant began to rise in front of him. Fortunately, he remembered to release the lock, averting the plant from ripping the floor and everything else up with it.

  This has to be some kind of joke, was the thought running through his mind.

  He called the team together and walked outside where no one could believe their eyes. A giant machine floated motionless in the air near North Avenue, holding the power plant with a strange green light. With gracious simplicity, it slowly lowered the plant onto the lawn closest to the road.

  Suddenly, Oliver Trenerry realized why he had been having the weird feeling that something was not right, that something was brewing in the background for quite some time. This sight explained everything. He looked at Karen, who stood next to him watching, yet didn't even show the slightest sign of surprise.

  “You knew about it, didn't you?” he asked her.

  “What? The vehicle?”

  “Of course the vehicle, what else?”

  “Yes, this is one of many developments that's happening at the moment, but I don't know everything though. What's bothering you?”

  “Apart from not knowing about it, nothing really!”

  “Well, then, all I can say again is talk to him.”

  Trenerry did not answer. He stood observing the engineers as they started to work on the plant.

  Jim Hols, the construction manager and his construction team arrived from the still stricken city to assist in its rapid construction.

  The aircraft, that had came out of nowhere, remained hovering over them and provided light for them to work by. Forty minutes later, they had achieved a miracle. At quarter past eleven at night, lights began to flicker on in patches until – block by block – the entire city was returned to its original glowing splendor. The nearly three-hour power outage had seemed to last for a year, and had aged the ASEC experts ten times as many. Unfortunately, they still had work to do.