Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm Page 4

  III

  Invention

  2058 A.D.

  The aroma of coffee hung in the air, still present from the previous meeting. The attendees for the next meeting began moving slowly into the room. Some paused to refill coffee mugs. Others engaged in idle banter with colleagues. As the clock ticked toward the top of the hour, they gradually moved into the chairs surrounding the massive teak table filling the center of the room. Chairs rolled into place, squishing the plush carpet. Papers rustled as the men and women opened manila folders and removed the contents, thumbing through the pages. Most of them hadn’t read the contents until now. Two of them scanned the packet, and Fil could sense their surprise at the claims. The lights dimmed, and Fil paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the reduced lighting.

  He should be nervous. He knew that. He could exude confidence, as did the dozens of others appearing before this group of potential investors, asking for the infusion of capital that would allow them to continue working their dream… or watch it evaporate into the mist.

  Fil had two advantages over most of them. First, he knew exactly who he needed to impress, and what he needed to do. It was part of his curse. Humans had no idea how loud they thought and felt emotions. For someone like Fil, they were shouting exactly what they wanted to hear from him, and let him know immediately without error exactly how well he spoke. He had reason to be confident.

  The other advantage he had is that he didn’t want to succeed in this presentation. His nervousness wasn’t driven by the idea that he’d fail, it was over the realistic concern that he’d either convince them to invest, or make it obvious he wasn’t trying to win.

  He was going through an act that had been ordained long before. His invention was one they knew must be brought to the public, but outside investors might keel over before the pressure to keep his invention from the market, no matter how great the potential profits. He needed to fail to keep any investing groups safe from potential backlash. Once that happened, once he’d exhausted the public “angel investing” companies that had the capital he needed to build his production factories, a private group would step forward with his funding. In reality, it would be a shadow company operated by members of the Alliance, giving him the money left to him by his parents.

  He took a quick mental scan of those present. Of the handful who’d read his materials ahead of time, the majority found his claims dubious at best. The odds were against them funding his efforts.

  It was time to begin.

  He cleared his throat, and felt the eyes of the room upon him.

  “I’d like to begin by thanking each of you for coming here today to talk about—”

  “Let’s just skip the platitudes, shall we?” Fil couldn’t see the speaker. He knew that only one vote in the room mattered, and it would belong to the man who would ask the questions. “We’ve read your materials.” Fil stifled a laugh; the man was lying outright or believed the preparation lies of his own people. “The concept is… intriguing. We’re skeptical of the claims you make for the performance of the device and the market pricing you suggest is possible via mass production.”

  Fil nodded. The points of skepticism were expected, and reflected a reasoned response of someone who’d not just read the materials, but who had truly understood them.

  He flipped the projection screen on and skipped forward through the presentation that appeared, moving past slides of text and numbers until he stopped on the image of the house he’d called home for the past fifteen years. He’d moved in after Angel had “run away from home” following their mother’s official death, and after Adam had “died” a year later in his grief over the missing girl. The house boasted a slightly smaller footprint than the house they’d rented in Oregon. The space was adequate to his needs as he lived alone.

  “This is my home. It’s average in size compared to the typical American home, and also uses common construction techniques, insulation, and electrical wiring techniques you’d find in any standard home as well.”

  “You live alone, though.”

  He nodded. “That’s correct, and typically that would mean that I’d consume a materially smaller amount of electrical energy in this house than a family of three or four. The equipment I use to conduct my experiments, though, uses far more electricity than most families consume, and though my personal usage is low, it’s balanced out by that equipment.” He flipped to the next slide, which showed a billing statement and views from the website of the local electrical company. “You can see my actual statements from the power company here, along with statistics from their website. My power consumption is at the fifty-ninth percentile for this company, just above average.”

  He thought he heard someone mumble “carbon footprint” but let the comment slide.

  He paused briefly to give the appearance of waiting for more comments, though he knew no one would speak. “I terminated my electrical service agreement with the power company three months ago. All of my electrical needs since have been met by the device.”

  He gave them time to process his statement. He’d made this point clear in the briefing materials but knew few had read them. If they had, if they’d thought the statement through, they’d have objections. Questions. A great deal of skepticism.

  “Can you prove that?” It was his primary target speaking again. “I don’t want to suggest… impropriety, of course. But…”

  “But records are easy to fabricate, billing statements from electrical companies can be altered for images such as these, and so forth.” He smiled. His target’s intensity mellowed. Acknowledge reasonable doubt as reasonable. Arguing his integrity would solve nothing. He needed to prove himself trustworthy. Why he felt the need, even when he wanted to give them a reason to reject his request, was something he couldn’t explain.

  He moved forward several slides in his on-screen presentation. “There are several challenges with the test, not the least of which is a like-for-like comparison. I needed to make sure I didn’t alter my habits and consume less electricity on the device than I did before, especially by a material amount. If I did, the viability of the device is far more questionable. When I terminated my contract with the power company, they agreed to let me use the power meter as before. In other words, I turned off their power feed and plugged in mine, but in terms of measuring power draw I’m using the same measurement technology—the same meter, in fact—as before.” He gestured at the slides, which showed the configuration of the device outside his home, along with the image of an affidavit. “The letter you see here, which is reproduced in the information packets you received, is an affidavit showing both my before and after electrical usage as well as the fact that I stopped receiving electrical power from the utility at the start of the experiment. There’s a name and number you can use to contact the company.”

  “But—”

  “But the name and number might be an imposter, a friend I’ve set up to take your call and pose as an employee of the utility?” Fil smiled again. He could feel the resistance waning. They were truly starting to believe him; that didn’t mean they’d believe in him enough to offer up the billions he’d need to commence production. “I’ve provided the main number for the utility, which is a matter of public record. The employee’s name is there. You can dial her directly, or dial the main line and ask for a transfer. Her credentials are there, authorizing her to speak on behalf of the company in this matter.”

  He heard the sounds of the pages rustling as his primary target studied him. His face told Fil that the man was impressed, a subtle change in the lines around his face. The man would betray nothing of his growing interest, though. “We’ll have one of our number call to check on the veracity of the affidavit with the utility. Given your extensive effort to ensure your methodology is sound and not subject to alteration, we will for purposes of ongoing discussion accept that your measurement approach is sound. Your findings?”

  He flipped to the next slide. “The device acts as a combination
generator and battery. I emptied the battery prior to commencing the experiment. When I left the house this morning, the electricity stored there was sufficient to power my home for about a day. The graph here shows total electrical consumption each day, first for the three months before the experiment, and then for the three months after, all based upon the utility company’s electric meter.”

  A pause. “If an empty battery has a day’s worth of electricity stored, that means the device generated more electricity than you needed?”

  Fil nodded. “That’s correct. The battery has a maximum capacity of around a day, so it’s possible that it generated far more power than we can see here, though. The surplus number is conservative.”

  “What’s the fuel source? The cost of the fuel used in your generator is an ongoing cost that a consumer would bear. Is it cheaper to buy electricity from the power company than to buy the device and pay the ongoing cost to operate your device?

  That wasn’t a question he wanted to hear. If they were talking about the end consumer, they were starting to think about marketing and promotion—and that indicated an interest in funding him. “There is no fuel you’d need to purchase and replenish on an ongoing basis, like kerosene or propane or gasoline.”

  He heard a hand slap against the table, and felt the rush of frustration. “That’s ridiculous. There must be a fuel source of some kind. You can’t create energy out of thin air. This is science, not magic.”

  Fil nodded once, trying to avoid smiling at the unintended irony in the questioner’s comment. He could generate quite a bit of Energy out thin air if necessary. That was information he wouldn’t share. “Generators need not use a motor propelled through the combustion of a transportable fuel source. Consider hydroelectric dams. Rushing water turns the cylinders. No one needs to turn the water on; it just runs. The cylinders turn. Electricity for thousands comes into existence. This device uses a similar principle.”

  “Wind? Solar?” The woman snorted. “Those are unreliable. Nothing as small as the device you’ve shown in the pictures could collect enough of either to produce the type of energy you’re describing here.”

  “I agree,” Fil replied.

  “So… is that the secret? This device just consolidates electricity from an outside collection of solar panels or wind turbines and feeds it into a home?” He heard the fingers drumming on the table, felt the frustration mixed with triumph. She thought she’d figured out his scam, felt a sense of pride in doing so.

  He could let it go. He could let all of them think what she thought was the truth. They’d not read as much of the briefing material as the man had suggested earlier on, then. And he’d be free to accept funds from his anonymous donor, keep everything within the Alliance family, and prosper.

  But it wouldn’t be right to leave them with incomplete information. He wanted them to have the opportunity to make a legitimate decision. Curse his parents and the morals they’d instilled in him.

  “In that scenario, the transport of electricity from the source to the device and the home would be no different than the current production and delivery model. The device produces all electricity directly. I agree with you regarding solar and wind. Neither have the ability to produce sufficient electricity with the footprint described here. The device does have the ability to capture both where available and supplement the primary electrical production technique. But that’s all. You could disable those supplemental sources without preventing the device from producing its electrical quota.”

  That statement mollified her. “So… what is it, then? What’s the secret fuel source?”

  “It’s something that’s always with us while we’re on this planet. It’s something not tied to geography or weather conditions. Nor does it rely on one being near a large body of water.” He took a deep breath. “The primary source of power here is gravity.”

  There was a long, quiet pause. He could hear their thoughts, each of them trying to make sense of his claim. How could he use something as simple as gravity to produce the electricity needed to power a standard home? The doubt began to outweigh the positive emotion he’d sensed earlier.

  He was making his point and remaining true to his principles while discouraging them from continuing.

  Good.

  Finally, the first man spoke. “Gravity? How… how can you use gravity to power a generator?”

  Fil licked his lips. Everyone had signed nondisclosure agreements; he’d have an airtight case should the technology appear on the market without his involvement. He didn’t think they’d turn him down and then try to recreate the technology on their own.

  That didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.

  He considered his next words carefully. “Sailboats are able to move both with and against the wind. This device uses gravity in a similar fashion to rotate the cylinders and generate current. The device takes advantage of the fact that gravity always pulls down. It doesn’t need added complexity to consider gravity pulling up or from the side.”

  The lead man for the group nodded once at his team, and they huddled around him, whispering. He knew they were done asking questions of him, had all the information they needed, and would now make their decision. He rested his hand on the smooth, cool metallic surface of the device, a material he’d created that blocked penetration by exterior energy waves. His briefing material stated this precaution prevented malfunctions; in reality, it prevented the unscrupulous at meetings such as these from scanning the interior and duplicating his design. The screen for his laptop displayed an icon showing the use of an external power supply. The cable plugged into the side of his device. If anyone noticed, if any of them realized this was a live demonstration of his invention, if any of them started to ask to test the device, he’d know they’d elected to fund his company.

  He avoided spying on their emotions, preferring the element of surprise.

  The primary spokesman for the group finally looked up. “I’m very sorry, but I’m having trouble believing it’s possible. You may well have succeeded in making the device next to you work as claimed, and perhaps we’ve cut our analysis short before we’ve had the chance to look at the device with more rigor. But as is… even if you could produce the device at the pricing you claim in your report, I have deep concerns about the public’s ability to believe in the product, and all of the associated adjustments its usage would require. The disbelief would crush any potential success.”

  Fil paused, waiting for just one brief moment for effect. Inside, he was elated. The due diligence was done, they’d ensured he’d need to find another funding source, and he’d be able to hide the design as needed until profitability came. But public appearances were vital. “I… I don’t understand. The implications of what this device means are enormous. The profit potential is astronomical. The impact on society and the world at large is immeasurable. It seems… hasty to walk away before even seeing the device in action.”

  “Perhaps,” the man said. He shrugged. “But that is our decision, and we have other meetings.”

  In losing here today, he’d won. He picked up the computer and stowed it in the storage bag. After slinging the strap over his shoulder, he picked up the keg with both arms and walked slowly and mournfully from the room. Once outside, relief flooded over him.

  He’d done it.

  This had been his twentieth such presentation, and each had ended in similar fashion. The assembled investors had listened, had believed, but had doubted whether the public would accept the device and use them. If the public couldn’t believe in the device, they wouldn’t buy, and the investment firm would lose its investment. In a society where capital remained scarce, investors avoided such gambles.

  He respected their decision. He could now put out the formal call for private investors. One would emerge from the shadows, hidden behind veils of legal instruments to preserve anonymity, and provide the capital he’d need to build his factories. He’d already worked out the development problems, reduced the price
point to six months’ worth of average electric bills, and had documented proof the device worked. His “Generator Keg” wasn’t a concept requiring years of development and testing. It was ready for immediate production. Massive profits for his private investor were certain.

  He frowned. He’d expected one of the public investment banks and corporations to see through the modest veil of secrecy he’d raised, to understand that this was the next technological breakthrough, one of enormous societal importance, and would drive the next great private fortune. Yet none of his potential investors had agreed to discuss terms.

  Why?

  He felt the back of his neck prickle, and his enhanced senses activated.

  Someone felt threatened by him and his invention. Threatened enough to attack him.

  He bypassed the elevator he’d used to reach the twelfth floor meeting room from the parking garage, opting instead for the nearby stairwell. Without the need to retain human appearance, he shifted the heavy keg under one arm and moved down the steps.

  He hopped down several steps before realizing the door he’d entered hadn’t clicked shut.

  His enhanced senses began screaming, telling him what was happening above and below.

  There were three of them, all armed, all there representing the local utility company. They had orders to eliminate Fil Trask. Trask’s invention would devastate their industry. He muttered at himself; he’d never checked ownership of this building, hadn’t realized until the thought escaped an attacker’s mind that the utility itself owned the building. He’d been brought here under false pretenses, not to offer investment, but for elimination. Trask’s “keg” would be retrieved, and Trask must not leave the building alive.

  He glanced upward. They expected him to protect the device, believe it the only working prototype, didn’t know about the half-dozen others scattered around the globe at Alliance safe houses. The element of surprise would serve him as he used the keg—or the computer—as shield or weapon. The laptop wouldn’t help them; the hard drive had been wiped clean when he’d powered the device down. At least he’d anticipated eventual attacks, even if he’d missed the obvious source.