Conspiracy Theorists©
A few weeks later, Monday started with a whimper. Dave and dick had taken a week off to polish their introduction plan, and they met daily to work on it. Now it was back to work. It began as a typical Monday at work for Dave, or as typical as a day can be when the future of the world is in your hands, anyway.
"It’s actually quite relaxing," Dave had thought as he sat through one more meeting where an attempt was made to further the cause of rationality in the face of ignorance. It seems a designer had specified a special order bolt when he released his drawing, and nobody said anything about it at the time. Although the effect of the special part might have been somewhat mitigated if it had been ordered immediately, the purchasing department had ‘forgotten’ to order it until the week before it was needed. With a minimum 100 pc. Order (only one was needed per aircraft, and only 6 aircraft of this configuration were to be produced) and a price per piece of $500, everyone muttered about being in the wrong business, then set about blaming each other. Dave presented the structural analysis that had been done, and showed that a much more common bolt would work, then the crowd set about trying to figure out a way to legally use the more common bolt. "It even seems therapeutic, after having been frightened within an inch of your life by a real life man in black," Dave thought.
Other theraputics had included setting up routines for the Fiero’s appearance generator software to run. He could make it half there (like the front, back, or a side was missing), simulate wild paint jobs on it, or project the landscape from the opposite side onto it.
Dave walked to the car at the end of the day thinking about how relaxing it had been, and how frustrating it had seemed before. "I guess it just needed to be put in perspective," Dave thought.
He felt a lot more secure using the Fiero’s shields, and he had had a lot of fun writing routines to change the car’s appearance. For security while driving he had written a number of routines for the car. Setting the shields to a very short range outside of the car’s surface made it seem as though you were touching the car’s surface, but you were actually against the forcefield. It made for a very effective security system, as well as keeping the car clean.
The trip home didn’t seem unusual. Traffic was heavy, but it kept flowing at a rapid pace. He made it a point to pay special attention as he exited onto 71st Street Eastbound from highway 169 Southbound. The Westbound traffic on 71st had been running the red lights through the overpass more and more frequently, resulting in several accidents recently. The light at the offramp was green as he turned onto the heavily traveled crossroad, and he took the turn aggressively to keep his speed up, just in case.
Almost as if reading his mind, a horn sounded to his left as he began the turn to the east. A ford excursion had run the light! It had already hit two cars, sending them spinning into the overpass supports and the sidewalls as though they were toys. The SUV’s huge mass gave it enormous momentum, meaning it would be difficult to stop, even if the driver tried, and he didn’t appear to be trying. What’s more, it was heading straight towards him. It would broadside him if he continued at his current rate.
Dave pressed the pedal to the floor. In microseconds, the mighty Café Electric Z2K pegged the motor current ammeter at 2000 amps! Normally, such a sudden increase would break the rear tires loose, accomplishing nothing, but Dave had added performance routines in the field emitter control computer to compensate. The field emitters detected the added current, and added down force in response to the increase in motor current, firmly planting the tires in the road surface, increasing traction, and minimizing tire spin. The little car leaped forward under acceleration that pressed Dave back hard in the seat.
For an instant, it looked like the big SUV was actually swerving towards him, but there was no way for anything that weighed that much to change direction or speed at a rate that could match the spritely electric Fiero. Dave was sure he was out of harm’s way.
The explosion came as a complete surprise. The enormous vehicle had not hit anything that would cause it’s oversized fuel tank to detonate, yet just as Dave pulled the rear of the Fiero past the nose of the huge vehicle (had it really swerved to hit him, or had that been his imagination?), it exploded, releasing a tremendous shock wave and flame front. The little car was engulfed in less time then it took to think about it. Although the field emitters protected him, Dave had known that something like this might happen. The computer detected the sudden changes in temperature and pressure, and implemented a preprogrammed appearance routine.
A second later, when the Fiero emerged from under the flame front, the body panels appeared burned, melted, and smoking, the glass appeared shattered, and there seemed to be dents and tears from shrapnel in numerous places.
Worse than living through the explosion were the numerous interviews with the police afterwards, especially since his car resembled the one at the tanker explosion.
When Dave arrived home after finally being dismissed by the police, he felt like one of James Bond’s martinis, except he’d been shaken and stirred.
When he pulled into the garage and closed the door behind him, he issued commands to the computer. The appearance generating software reverted to normal mode, and the smoldering, burnt, and dented panels were new again. Then the glass rematerialized. It had been a ruse. It had worked, and no one was the wiser.
It wasn’t until later, after calming down, that Dave remembered that even though gasoline was highly flammable, only the vapors could explode with force. He also remembered that there didn’t seem to have been any trigger for the explosion. There was no way it had could have been an accident.
Then he could only think of one thing: Spencer! That weasel had won his confidence then tried to kill him! Dick could be in danger as well.
He reached for the phone and was retrieving Spencer’s card from his pocket when the phone rang. He nearly dropped it. "Just like what usually happens at work," he mused. "Reach for the phone and it rings."
"Hello?" He answered.
"Mr. Christopher, this is Manuel Spencer. Are you all right?"
"Um, I’m OK, I guess," Dave stammered. He placed Spencer's card back in his wallet.
"I’m glad to hear it," Spencer replied. "We’ll be over shortly." Then there was a click and a dial tone before he could reply.
So Spencer did know! Anger colored Dave’s eyesight, but before he could decide on what action to take, a car was already pulling into the driveway.
Dave opened the door before the agency man could knock. Spencer came in wearing his overcoat, slacks, and a rumpled plaid shirt. "Doesn’t he ever change clothes?" Dave thought.
"We heard what happened…" Spencer began.
"I’ll just bet!" Dave interrupted. "Are you disappointed, Spencer? You must’ve hated to waste a perfectly good suicide bomb!"
Spencer put his hands up. "Now wait just a minute," he countered.
"Why, so you can just shoot me?" Dave replied. "That’s what you really want, isn’t it? Have you already killed Dick, too?"
"Calm down, Mr. Christopher, calm down," Spencer replied. "We’re not behind this. We said we’d keep an eye on you, and we have. That’s how we knew about what happened. I came by to see if you were OK."
Not quite convinced, Dave replied "I’m touched by your concern." The sarcasm was obvious in his voice. He did stop pacing, however.
"Mind if we sit down?" Spencer asked, motioning to a chair.
"I guess not," Dave began. As he sat, he added "I suppose the next obvious question is ‘if you aren’t responsible, who is’."
"Right on the button," Spencer replied. "Let’s begin back in the ‘70’s. That’s when the members of OPEC realized just how much power they had. Along with the obvious power plays of messing with the world’s oil supply, they, and several oil-related interests and companies after them, formed an informal organization to synchronize and control all related activities, especially in dealing with other countries' economies. Over time, they placed people in various government positions, as well as in positions of prominence in the automotive, aerospace, and energy fields. They were careful to branch out to all fields of energy production, consumption, and distribution. These people were well financed, and were to embed themselves in positions of power in order to manipulate things to the advantage of a group that controlled the oil companies. We don't know what they called themselves. The various government agencies that have had to clean up after their activities soon settled on calling them 'the shadow group'. They are sort of a cross between deep-cover operatives, economists, businessmen, and mobsters. They feed information to the shadow group and wait until they ask them to do something. You know, like the godfather told people ‘someday, and that day may never come, I will ask you to do a favor for me’. We suspect they were behind, among other things, the sequestering of patents for high capacity advanced batteries, and the drawing out of fuel cell research, to say nothing of the powerful political lobby resisting increases in corporate average fuel economy numbers."
"How about that," Dave thought. "There really was a conspiracy."
Spencer continued. "As time went by, the shadow group shifted their focus from oil to broader energy-related purposes, and relaxed their hold on the more traditional oil-related areas as they became more aware of the limitations of the petroleum supply. They also became a bit more benign, and morphed into more of a business association than the mafia-type operatives they had started out as. Nowadays, they just act more like energy investors. Their worst offenses now are on the level of insider trading."
"Most of them have gone this way," Spencer continued. "But in any organization that changes, there can be splinter groups. That's what we believe we're dealing with here. Holdouts – those who still operate the same way they did when they were first formed. There is one group in particular that opposes any significant development in any ‘disruptive’ technology that could threaten their position. One of their more interesting activities is fostering an anti-EV bias in the media at all costs. They have a presence in the american automotive makers, but are present in relatively large number in top positions at General Motors."
Images of row after row of crushed EV-1’s flashed before Dave’s eyes. That would explain a great number of things…
Spencer paused to let this sink in, then continued. "They monitor ‘chatter’ about energy sources and alternative transportation just like we monitor it for terrorist activity. When an inquiry about Maloney’s name turned up, they tracked it back to it’s source. We suspect that your inquiries about Maloney, probably combined with our inquiries about you, made them single you out. But you see what this means? A scramble may have started already."
"Do you think Dick is in danger, too?" Dave asked.
"Probably," Spencer replied, "but we’ve stepped up how closely we’re watching both of you, and have taken precautions as to the content of our communications. Agent Kowalski is briefing him right now on the same subject."
"Honestly," Spencer continued, "we were just as impressed with the way you handled the incident as we were surprised that anything like this happened right under our noses in the first place. Looking back, we should have noticed the signs that another party was interested. I promise it won’t happen again."
"I should hope not," Dave began. "my heart isn’t that resilient anymore."
"I should mention, Mr. Christopher, that we are very impressed. You could have driven right through that vehicle and come out unscathed, yet you maintained the illusion."
"I’m under no presumptions as to what is at stake, Mr. Spencer." Dave replied. "Besides, I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it."
"Thank you," Spencer replied. "Anyway, as a result, you are beginning to gain my trust."
"Thanks, I think," Dave replied. "Tonight Dick and I have another strategy session, and I think this will wrap up our introduction plan. Would you care to sit in? Obviously there is a lot more to talk about regarding what happened today, and since he’s in danger too, I think it’d be best if we were all here."
"Sounds like a plan," Spencer replied.
"I certainly hope so," said Dave.
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