Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion

by Lee McGeorge

figure it out for themselves. But you’re right, it’s worth more than fifty million in contracts.”

  “They can’t copy it. Not yet. This isn’t an easy technology to replicate. Even if they were to take my lab equipment it would be redundant without the expertise. We still could be the competition.”

  “And what do you think they would do to a competitor? You heard what the man said about them worried this technology could slip behind the iron curtain. Imagine if the Soviets had Veraceo and wanted to use it as a propaganda weapon against us. Everything they said in that meeting is perfectly logical. The question is not whether we accept their offer, but on what terms do we accept? For the money I’ll demand a hundred million, non-negotiable; but we need to get them to understand that we’re not prepared to sell our souls.”

  ----- X -----

  On their return to the Consec building Cue Ball was waiting by the doorway. “You had a telephone call whilst you were outside,” he said. “Oleksander Bartok tried to reach you both and asked that you call him back.” He motioned them to a luxurious lounge. It was like an empty airport lounge with seating for at least sixty people. The carpet was red, the walls were white and the seating was tan coloured Miles van der Rohe chairs. Each chair had a telephone on a side table.

  “If you take a telephone each, I’ll have your call connected.”

  Brian noticed how at ease Barry looked. When he sat he folded one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair with an effortless confidence to his manner. Probably an act for the benefit of those watching.

  The call connected.

  “Hallo, this is Oleksander Bartok.”

  “Oleks, this is Barry Conw… This is Barry Convex, I’m on the line with Brian Spectrometer.”

  “Gentlemen, hallo. I’m so glad you made it to Consec, how is everything? Are they looking after you?”

  Brian and Barry looked to one another. Brian made a slow wink and Barry made a nod with his eyes; the non-verbal shorthand between close friends. They most likely had been overheard in the rose garden. Perhaps there was a man on the roof with a parabolic microphone. They’d spoken aloud of feeling uncomfortable and out of the blue comes Oleksander Bartok to assuage their fears.

  “They’re making us a low-ball offer,” Barry said. “It isn’t enough money. But, that aside, our issue at the moment isn’t payment, rather it’s to do with our comfort level. If we partner with Consec we need to feel comfortable that we’re doing the right thing. We don’t yet know enough about Consec to make that sort of decision.”

  Bartok laughed. “This, my friends, I understand perfectly. You will find this corporation more like smoke, never quite able to hold it. The reason I call is there is a social meeting of Consec partners this Friday. It is a black tie dinner and I would like you to come as my guests. You will meet many Consec partners with whom you can speak. Leave your decision until after you meet the partners.”

  ----- X -----

  Brian looked mildly uncomfortable in his rented tuxedo; Barry looked sensational having spent a princely sum having one tailored. He was already spending his share before the cheque was written.

  The limousine took them to Downsview Airport and drove straight out to the runway. The field was more commonly known as Canadian Forces Base Toronto and the fact that they so easily made it onto an airbase with a salute from the guards deepened the mystery of Consec all the more.

  “Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Jean, I’ll be looking after you for the flight.” The stewardess was waiting at the bottom of the steps to a Gulfstream G-III. “Mister Bartok told me to take good care of you.”

  “Excuse me,” Brian said. “Where are we going?”

  “Maryland, in the USA. We’ll be landing close to Washington D.C. The flight time is one hour and twenty five minutes.”

  They boarded the plane. Barry took off his bowtie and opened his shirt collar. He rested for the flight, enjoying the trappings and opulence. Cream leather seats and a profound sound insulation compared to a regular flight, a fawning stewardess offering fine champagnes, wines and spirits.

  “They’re sparing no expense over us, are they?” Brian said.

  Barry nodded. “I know. I’m loving it.”

  “Are you not scared?”

  “Terrified,” He reclined the chair and closed his eyes. “But I’m going to try and enjoy the adventure.”

  On the receiving end they were met by another limousine that drove them for less than fifteen minutes to the private grounds of a huge, mansion-like building. The front door was flanked by soaring columns four storeys high that were lit with golden lighting. Fleets of limousines were arranged in the courtyard and Brian noticed many more down the side of the building. “Into the lion’s den we go,” he mumbled.

  As they entered, a man built like a wrestler but with the face of a fashion model stopped them. “Good evening, gentlemen. May I take your names?” Beyond the guard were waitresses holding silver platters of champagne for the new arrivals and beyond them was a society function in full swing. The guard held a clipboard of the guest list.

  “I’m Brian Olivier, this is Mister Barry Conway, we’re meeting Oleksander Bartok.”

  Barry added, “Our names may be listed as Barry Convex and Brian Spectrometer.”

  “Indeed you are. Welcome, Mister Convex, Mister Spectrometer.”

  They entered the soirée to see men in tuxedos and women in ball gowns. There were military medals, too. Lots of them. Retired generals judging by the coins and ribbons. “Do you recognise anyone?” Barry asked.

  “Nobody.”

  They moved through the room, literally rubbing shoulders with what felt like an underground society of untold wealth. Ladies with glittering diamond bracelets and plunging necklines were on the arms of powerful looking men. A string quartet filled the air with the sounds of fine music. Luxury perfumes and fine tailoring were the norm.

  “Brian, Barry, you made it!” Oleksander Bartok stepped through the people with a wide smile and wide open arms. He rested his champagne glass on a side table and offered warm handshakes. “How was your trip?”

  “Luxurious,” Barry said.

  He stepped back to admire Barry’s tuxedo. “That is a fine suit, Barry, I see you have a taste for the finer things.” Bartok turned back to his female companion, a stunningly beautiful Indian girl with violet coloured eyes. He gave her a small wave then turned back to Barry and gave a wink, “I enjoy the finer things too.”

  Barry grinned.

  “Brian, there is somebody I would like to introduce you to, please.” He led them around the room and motioned to a man with a large grey beard and small wire framed spectacles. “Brian Spectrometer, meet Doctor Paul Ruth.” They shook hands. “Paul has a similar mind-set to you, I believe. Interested in research rather than social gatherings.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Ruth said. His voice had a deep timbre. “I can always be tempted with a wee dram.” He raised his glass.

  “We are wanting to tempt Brian into becoming a Consec partner,” Bartok added. “He’s a scientist like you, Paul. He enjoys deep R&D; I was hoping you could help twist his arm a little by telling him what it’s like to have Consec as a backer.”

  Ruth smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth. His eyebrows raised and his eyes sparkled. “It’s like no academic institution you have ever known. There are no rounds of funding, nobody to impress, no forms or paperwork or oversight. If you have an idea and want to pursue it, Consec will provide the funding and resources, no matter how curious a project you’re working on. So long as it’s aligned with Consec’s ideals, they’ll write you blank cheques.”

  “What field are you in?” Brian asked.

  “Pharmacology. I developed sedatives and hypnotics. Like most drugs, the majority of them never came to market but Consec saw the potential in some of my work.” He chuckled a little. “Once Consec saw the potential they bought my company and made me a partner.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “Oh
, yes. It was the smartest decision I ever made.”

  ----- X -----

  “I think Consec Leader is ready to meet you,” Bartok said once the drinks were flowing. “He’ll be speaking at the dinner tonight, but he’s cleared some space to talk with you both privately.”

  A security guard took them upstairs and opened the doors to a darkened boardroom. There was an open fire casting the room in a warm glow, plus a long meeting table with green bankers lights arranged in neat rows down either side. Deep in the room, a man worked at a luxurious desk topped in green leather.

  "Consec Leader,” the guard said to get his attention.

  The man looked up. “Oleksander, good to see you.” He stood to reveal himself as far taller than he appeared in the video they’d seen. His eyes were strikingly blue, even in the gloom. The silver beard was cropped close to his face and his silver hair swept back. “Who is this with you?”

  “May I present, Mister Barry Convex and Mister Brian Spectrometer.”

  The Leader’s eyes sparkled and his mouth opened to a smile. “Indeed, Oleks, gentlemen, I’ve been reading about you and I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you join me?” He motioned to two facing Chesterfield sofas ahead of the fire. He took one side, Barry and Brian took the other. “I would imagine this is a whole other world opening up to you… Brian, I was reading about your Veraceo system. Quite remarkable. How did it come about?”

  Brian coughed