Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 04 - A Deadly Change of Power (15 page)

N
o time for explanations, I dragged Jake out to the Explorer parked in the driveway and told him to get in.  On the way to the address I’d received from the billboard company, I told him my theory.  I suspected that Jack Pearle was the man behind the message on the billboard because I’d heard him say it before
—
the first time I met him.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked him as we cruised down the freeway.

“I have to help her.  I don’t care what happens to me.  It’s my fault she’s in such deep trouble.  If I hadn’t enco
uraged her to file that patent…
”

“But how can you help her?  You don’t even work for World Motors anymore.”

“How’d you find out?” he asked.

“I tried to call you this morning.  What happened?”

“It’s a long story.  Let’s just say I tried to get Ronnie’s engine on the drawing board.  Once I realized floating the idea was like trying to launch a lead balloon over the Grand Canyon, I also grasped the reality that my life wasn’t worth a plug nickel.  I dropped out of sight, and the next thing I knew, I was on a flight to the last place I’d seen Ronnie.”

We pulled into the industrial complex and searched for the unit number I’d noted with the address.

“There.  Unit C,” Jake said, pointing out the window toward the huge building. 

I parked the Ford and we both jumped out, hurrying for the door.  It was locked.  We could hear pounding and machine noises inside.  I pushed a button next to the door that was marked “Ring bell” and waited.  I glanced up and noticed the security camera aimed at us.  I nudged Jake and pointed at it.  “Smile for the camera,” I said.

We waited nearly a full minute before the door slowly eased open.  Jack Pearle reached his hand out and pulled me in by the arm.  Jake followed. 

“I got your phone message this morning,” Jack said.  “I tried to call you back, but there was no answer.”

I nodded.  “I couldn’t wait.  I tracked you down through the billboard company,” I explained.

Troubled, Jack made a note to call the advertising company.  “I don’t want them giving out this address.”

Jack squinted at Jake.  “Who’s he?”

“Jake Monroe.  I’m a friend of Ronnie’s.  Is she here?”

Jack shook his head.  “No.”

At that moment, Ronnie appeared from behind a closed door.  “It’s okay, Jack.  He’s a friend,” she said, stepping to the center of the small office we stood in.  The relief on Jake’s face was unmistakable.  He rushed across the room and wrapped his arms around her.  She melted in his embrace.

Jack’s eyes met mine and his eyebrows lifted.  “Guess they’re friends,” he said, grinning.

After the reunion, Jack and Ronnie took us on a tour of the plant.  Dozens of crates were stacked near some sort of loading dock.  “What are they?” I asked.

“Generators,” Ronnie announced, proudly.  “Like the one I built for my house.  We have a website on the Internet and put up those billboards.  We’ve got orders for hundreds of them, so far.”

Jake and I exchanged worried glances.  “And how long do you think it’ll take before they find you here and put a stop to your enterprise?” Jake asked.  “Look how easy it was for us to find you.”

Ronnie stuck her chin in the air.  “Then they’ll stop us.  But not before we get as many as we can of these units out to the people.  Once it starts, there’ll be no stopping it.  I may not live to see it happen, but at least I’ll die knowing I started something big
—
really big.”

Jake turned his attention to Jack.  “And you’re willing to risk your life, too?”

“Darn right I am,” Jack assured him.  “Someone’s got to have the guts to stand up to them.”

Jake took Ronnie’s hand and led her to a chair.  “Sit down,” he said.  “I want to help.  I have an idea.  It’s a long shot, but it just might work.”

We all perked up our ears to hear Jake’s plan.

“I tried to sell your engine to my bosses at World Motors.  They shot me down,” he explained.  “After making that daring move, I knew there was no way to turn back.  I approached every major auto manufacturer in Detroit.  They all had the same reaction.  The same force controls them all.”

Worry lines appeared in Ronnie’s forehead.  “Then you’re in as much danger as I am,” she concluded.

“Looks that way,” he confirmed.  “But I have an idea.  Japan.”

“Japan?” Ronnie questioned.

“Your operation here is not big enough to take off.  They’ll stop you before you get enough units out there.  They’ll stomp out your little spark of a flame before it can turn into a blazing wildfire,” Jake said.

“So, what’s in Japan?” Ronnie asked.

I was already up-to-speed with Jake’s suggestion.

“Competition,” I offered.

Jake pointed a finger at me.  “Exactly.  And auto companies that are much more willing to develop and market cars with superior efficiency and cleanliness.  I don’t know why they seem not to be intimidated by the oil and gas industry, but they always lead the pack when it comes to new technologies in fuel efficiency.  Maybe it’s that kamikaze mind-set left over from the war.”

Jack pulled a chair up to a desk and sat down.  “So what are you suggesting?”

“We put together three demo engines.  Ship them over to Japan.  I’ve got contacts with the three major manufacturers over there.  I’ve already contacted them.  They’re all very interested.”

I smiled.  It could work.  “And if the engines perform as we all know they will, they’ll probably develop a new model
—
the ‘free to run’ car,” I suggested.  “There’d probably be a pretty good market for it.”

Jake shook his head.  “We don’t want some new little weird-looking car that looks like it came out of a bad Woody Allen movie.  This engine doesn’t have the weight restrictions that we see with electric cars.  It can go right into existing models
—
models that already have a huge following.  Imaging how many Honda car owners would trade in their V-six Accords for an identical car, equally priced, that delivers the same horsepower but doesn’t cost anything to drive.”

Jack slapped his hands on the desk.  “American car makers wouldn’t have a choice.  If they want to stay in business, they’ll have to follow Japan’s lead.  I don’t care how dedicated the public is to buy American.  When it comes to saving that much money, and that much pollution, and gaining that much independence, no one in their right mind would choose otherwise.”

Ronnie’s excitement turned to a worried frown.  “But what if we go over there and they turn out to be just like the car makers here.  They can be intimidated.  I don’t care who they are.  I’ve seen what these people can do.”

Jake took her hands into his.  “It’s possible, I admit, but I think we have a pretty good chance.  You said yourself that you’re willing to risk your life to get this technology out to the people.  This way, we have a better chance of getting that wildfire started before they can stomp it out.  What do you say?”

Her frown turned into a smile.  “How soon can we get three demo engines put together, Jack?”

Jack looked at his watch.  “I’ve seen the drawings.  We have all the equipment here to do it.  I think we could have them ready to ship by next week.”

Ten days later, Craig and I picked up Ronnie and Jake from the non-descript machine shop that was busily working to build as many ‘free-to-run’ generators as it could manage without drawing too much attention to itself.  Jack stayed behind to make sure all the orders would be filled.

We dropped Ronnie and Jake at the San Diego airport.  They had a flight out to Japan, and from there, Jake’s contact, a man he trusted without hesitation, guaranteed their safety once in the foreign country.

We watched the plane take off and each said a little prayer that the trip would be successful.  On the way home, Craig pulled into a gas station to fill the gas tank in my Explorer.  I grimaced at the price posted on the sign.  “Look
at that.
  This’ll cost a fortune to fill,” I complained.

Craig took a deep breath and turned his head my direction.  Then he beamed a huge smile.  “No worries, honey.  I have a feeling things are going to be changing for the better real soon.”

A shiver if excitement raced up my spine.  I felt the anticipation of what was in the works, and felt a little bit proud that I could say I played a small part in a history-making event that would change the world. 

Craig and I lounged in the comfort of our backyard, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the sun as it slowly dropped on the horizon, barely touching the surface of the Pacific.  Albert, now fully grown, galloped around the yard, carrying a toy duck in his mouth.  I sipped on a concoction I made in the blender
—
grapefruit and pineapple juice, fresh organic strawberries, and ice.  As I perused through the probate and foreclosure notices in the newspaper, Craig read the latest issue of
Popular Mechanics
.

“Listen to this!” Craig said, nearly dropping his fruit-juice smoothie in his lap.  He began reading from an article printed in the magazine.  “Last week, representatives from the top three Japanese auto manufacturers held a press conference to announce a new engine technology they plan to incorporate into their most popular models as early as next year.  The companies admit that it’s unusual, since they are in direct competition with each other, that they would join together in this daring move.  When questioned about this strategy, they admitted that the engineer who designed the engine, who, surprisingly, is an American, and even more surprising, a woman, refused to sell the patent, but negotiated a deal which would allow the Japanese companies permission to use the technology in their products.  The agreement requires that all three manufacturers participate, that the engine has to be offered as an optional feature on their top three selling models, and the price for a car with the engine must be the same or less than an otherwise equally equipped model.  Since the cost to manufacture the engine, once the initial tool-up costs have been absorbed, is less than that of a conventional engine, the companies agreed to this rather unusual stipulation.”

I smiled and took another sip through the straw.  “She really did it.  She pulled it off.”

“Wait, there’s more,” Craig continued.  “Absent from the press conference was Ronnie Oakhurst, the woman who designed the technology.  A member of our staff was able to catch up with her and get a brief interview.  Miss Oakhurst is currently negotiating with another division of one of these Japanese automakers, a division that produces, among other things, generators.  Apparently, the applications for this engine go far beyond just automobiles.  One day, according to Oakhurst, every home in the free world will be completely independent from power utility companies.  A generator, about the size of an existing air-conditioning unit, will be a standard fixture in every backyard.  Unsightly webs of electrical power lines will be a thing of the past.  Air pollution will be something our children only know about because they had to study it in history class.  Everyone will be able to afford to heat and cool their homes, light their rooms, irrigate their crops, and run their businesses.  With all the money people save from not having to support the lifestyles the oil company executives have grown accustomed to, they can actually afford to take time to enjoy their new-found fre
edom, new-found health, and an E
arth that may regain some of the beauty that existed before the days when the burning of fossil fuel was necessary.”

I closed my eyes and stroked Albert’s velvety ears as Craig finished reading the article.  I basked in the glow of hope, of the realization that some of the problems that came along with all the wondrous advancements of the Industrial Revolution were on their way to being solved.  I thought about Ronnie and the satisfaction she must feel, finally finishing what her father had tried to start so many years ago.  Wouldn’t he be proud of her now?  It just goes to show that one little person can accomplish great things, given that person has the determination, courage, and desire to make things better. 

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