Uplift (5 page)

When it became known that US Recon Marines, and Navy SEALS started to carry vibrochettes slung over their shoulders – money rolled in though we had to prosecute a lot of copycats. I made myself a tiny pocket version with a safety – didn’t want to cut any ‘vital’ body part off. The dull blade was less than 3” long so I would be less apt being arrested for carrying a dangerous weapon. I knew that wouldn’t stop overzealous cops.

I started working on the pistol, and shoulder fired power supplies. It wasn’t a firearm, but I was sure the Feds, and state bureaucrats would jump-on-the-bandwagon, soon, to ban carry of my ‘dangerous’ weapons. Corey suggested I hire some lobbyists, and ‘pay off’ some other folks. It was nice to be able to buy a few state legislators, and congressmen. Didn’t have enough money to purchase Federal senators, but I was working on it. It takes a lot of middle class folks, donating money, to buy any politicians – or a few rich fucks. I was becoming one of the later.

I had reached my zenith in developing the weapons myself, and started looking for support. My first hire was one Hamilton Withers, a Cary resident. He was from a long line of engineers, named after his great grandfather Tony – an amazing civil engineer. Hamilton, was excellent in handling the 3D printers, and seemed to be able to anticipate what I needed. He had signed some non-disclosures, and non-competes, but I paid him enough so I wouldn’t have to worry. He came to me one afternoon. Hamilton hired two others to help work out where to get all the odd pieces manufactured. Parts came from all over the globe.

“Boss. I got your latest design, and the patent application. I think you ought to hire some more security for this place,” he said, and shuffled around a bit.

“What is it? You can ask me anything? Why so nervous?” I asked.

“Look boss. None of my business…yeah…maybe it is. Look boss. The shit we are building is going to change warfare. This power supply for the weapons is a just a pulsed variation of what is supplying power to this building – that isn’t even patented. You could make more money designing power systems than weapons. You are going to face a world of opposition when people find out they can buy power less than can be purchased from the grid. The waste management companies have been infiltrated by organized crime for decades. They won’t like how you built a system to get rid of our own waste. That system volatilizes waste, and provides power, plus it precipitates out the useful metals, and slag. Boss,” he looked down. “I think you’re brilliant in many ways – but you need more protection. How about hiring a few of your old buddies?”

“Thanks Hamilton. I appreciate your concerns, but I’m packin’, and no one will mess with me – I’m too small time,” I said. I was so wrong.

NOTICE

Anderson was a senior National Security weenie. He knew he was an ass, but he knew that, and was good at what he did. He looked for competition to United Power, and would alert his bosses as soon as he discovered a threat, and this might be a biggie. How could this guy produce products that were such a radical innovation? Let’s see…he purchased solar panels, but the wattage wasn’t nearly enough to supply his building…look at this…his water, and sewer use was almost nothing. What was going on? Let’s look at other stuff – patents. This company had made a ton on the vibrochette, but what else…well fuck me…look at this. Guy just patented a bunch of pulsed weapons that fire…damn – lasers, and rail guns. WTF? How could you generate that much power from gasoline? Damn. Using gasoline to produce the energy with (MHD) …magneto hydrodynamics. Charge my car, and fill up my guns please. Hey. No wonder the guy can have a cheap electric bill.

This patent claims he can produce a 500 Kw laser pulse from a frigging shoulder fired weapon. Damn, Anderson thought. How the fuck could they do that? Why patent it? Don’t they know we can block that patent in the national interest? Surely its just spurious claims – holy shit…500 Kw out – god damn…deuterium oxide. The design is right here – I got to show this shit to Warren. Oh god. What if the Chinese, and Indians get hold of this? Oh God…no…no…no…they say they have working prototypes. Fuck.

****

The intercom buzzed in the office of Warren Smith.

“Yes. What is it Sharlene? A Mister Anderson is here to see you.”

“I’m busy Sharlene. Who is he with?” Warren asked.

“Sir. He’s with National Security, and he says he has information that may concern Sigma about a former employee.”

“Show him in Sharlene. Thank you,” Warren said, and wondered what this was all about.

The non-descript man walked in. His suit was cheap, and of poor taste, but that was the definition of National Security. He introduced himself, and sat down without being offered a seat.

“Are you familiar with a past employee named Richard Patterson?” Anderson asked.

“Yes. He worked for us twenty-five years. He was an excellent employee. He just retired a few months ago. What about him?” Warren answered. “What’s this about?”

“Bear with me a minute,” Anderson stated, and held up his hand.

Warren was a little pissed with this fucking bureaucrat holding up his hand to him – the audacity. “Why should this concern me?”

Anderson took a folder out of a briefcase, and held it up. “Do you know what this is?”

Warren was getting angry. “Don’t play games with me. I’m a busy man. Get to the point.”

“Did you know that Richard Patterson was a creative genius?” Anderson said holding up the folder.

Warren laughed. “Richard? Hardly. He was an excellent warrior…no…excellent is too mild a term. He was a marvelous fighter. Creative. I find that hard to believe.”

“Look at this. This is a summary of some of Richard’s innovations,” Anderson said.

Warren took the 3 cm-thick sheaf of document and began to glance through them…slowly at first, and then faster, and faster. His jaw dropped open. “Where did you get this…?”

“We acquired it from his AcuMint computers. It was heavily encrypted,” Anderson said.

Warren knew the government looked at almost everything, but this was amazing. “So you think he came up with all these ideas while our employee?”

“We’ve verified many of these, and he was the source of most of these innovations, and never claimed credit.”

“Wow. So what do you want us to do? Start court proceedings. Some of these are twenty-five years old.”

“No. It’s just a pattern. This guy is fucking smart, and he’s branched out,” Anderson said.

“I have many creative employees. I don’t see anything that is a problem. I have many good employees.”

“Sir. You don’t have any like Patterson. He just patented a shoulder-fired weapon that uses ordinary gasoline as its power source, and could take out an airplane, a bunker, or an armored vehicle with a pulsed laser. He’s the one that came up with those vibrochettes that the special ops love so much.”

Warren looked thoughtful. “Really? Richard Patterson? How is that possible? I understand he’s about dead with pancreatic cancer.”

Anderson leaned forward. “He’s as healthy as a horse, and looks like a baron. He looks about thirty now. Does this look like he’s on his death bed?”

Anderson tossed a glossy photo on Warren’s desk. Warren picked it up, and looked at the color, high definition photo carefully. “That is Richard. He looks good,” Warren thought. Looks better than I do, and he’s twice my age. What is going on? He doesn’t have the money for rejuvenation treatments. “How could he even know about those topics? He was really good at computers, but this other stuff?”

“We’ve found online courses that I think he took over the last few decades. He’s covered his tracks pretty well. We think…think…can’t prove it…that he took advanced classes. He has been taking courses in the most diverse courses you could imagine,” Anderson said, and gave Warren a couple of pages of course listings.

Warren looked over the list. Hell, he thought. I don’t even understand the topic on many of these courses. Richard Patterson? How could we have missed this all these years? What are you doing? Warren was torn because Patterson had saved his ass when the board was getting ready to fire him. What should he do? Sandy? Maybe Sandy? With enough financial incentive, Sandy would do anything? He chuckled.

“What’s funny about this?” Anderson asked obviously annoyed.”

“I have a relative that might be able to get you some information. Hold on before you do anything if you would? Would you leave your contact information with Sharlene? I will contact you shortly,” Warren said as he stood up, and extended his hand to dismiss Anderson.

Anderson shook his hand reluctantly. He didn’t like physical contact with inferiors, and he felt everyone was inferior. He particularly didn’t like this Patterson guy. I won’t wait long he thought.

“Sharlene. Would you contact Sandy, and get her up here to talk with me? Tell her its big bucks – that will get her moving.”

Warren sat down, and rubbed his face in his hands. What a surprise…not something they teach you in business school he thought.

****

The knock on the door was light, and I wasn’t used to visitors at my new apartment. I looked at the monitor – Sandy Withrow. Interesting development. I asked Corey to find out all the preferences I could about Sandy Withrow – to do personality profiles, and the whole ball of wax about her. I had Corey order some special food, flowers, and beverages.

I opened the door. “Hi Sandy. Welcome. You’re almost in time for dinner.”

“I’d prefer to go out,” she said.

“Not a problem. Come back tomorrow, and we can go out, but I’m feeling creative tonight,” I said, and knew she wouldn’t put it off a day. She was wearing a silk blouse, with no bra, and pants that looked sprayed on with a chain belt. She looked good, and knew it. She had perfume that was light, but killer.

I focused on Corey. Corey, I thought. She wants something so I want you to go all out, and seduce this female – find out all her preferences, and let’s overwhelm her. Find out her preferences, and get them here. You have the money… do it. I started to push her out.

Sandy was so shocked she almost got shoved out the door. “Wait. Richard. I’m here to see you. This can’t wait ‘til tomorrow,” she said.

I raised my eyebrows, and relaxed my hold on the door. Sandy put her hand alongside my face.

“I came by to see you,” she said.

I grabbed her hand, leaned forward, and said, “That’s nice,” knowing my exhaled breath was loaded with attractive pheromones produced with Corey’s help. I removed her hand.

Sandy’s knees almost buckled as she inhaled deeply, and her eyes closed. “Oh Richard. I’d love to have dinner with you tonight. I couldn’t do anything when you were working for Sigma because employee fraternization is against the rules you know.”

I smiled at that lame thought, and asked her to join me in the kitchen while I cooked.

She did look good, and I must say I was attracted to her body. She had a fantastic body whose shape was not concealed a bit with what she was wearing. She had small, perfectly formed breasts with slightly upturned nipples that were hard, and visible through her shear blouse. Her rear was prominently round, and probably sculpted – it looked great – she had dancers legs, and an athletes shoulders, and arms. She looked fine, and smelled better. She had long, dark brown hair past her shoulders, and dark eyeliner with multilayered eye shadow. She had those pouty lips that had been in style forever, and a slight overbite. She looked good.

Corey had come through for me. I seared some large sea scallops in organic butter, covered them with a light coat of garlic, and pepper, and liberally poured white wine over them to simmer covered. A light sprinkling of cayenne was added. I then washed off some nice mixed lettuces, and shaved some carrots. I sprinkled the shaved carrots, and added walnuts, and mandarin orange segments to two salads. I then grated some Parmesan cheese, and applied it to the salads. The door buzzer hummed, and I saw a delivery person – no – a second one had shown up too. Good timing Corey I thought.

I signed for the cold champagne, and wine from one delivery person, and the roses from the other person – tipped them with cash that they wouldn’t have to report, and turned back to my guest. “A nice little champagne, and a Benoît Gautier, light wine with dinner. Roses okay.”

Sandy smiled hugely. This assignment was turning out to be a LOT better than she thought. Who knew? He certainly doesn’t look old. We’ll get to that later, and just enjoy the moment now, she thought.

The champagne was excellent, and the white wine went perfectly with the meal. My! Who would suspect that the middle class lived like this…but I guess Richard wasn’t middle class any more, she thought. This champagne is my favorite, and the roses smelled wonderful. How did he know? I guess there’s more to him than I ever knew. He smells good too, she thought as they shared some tiramisu for dessert.

Richard got up, and made a quick espresso with Kahlua, Baileys, Grand Marnier, and crème. Sandy was very pleased, and not overly full – she appreciated the smaller portions.

She got up as he took the dishes back to the kitchen, and grabbed him around the middle as he was putting dishes into the sink. He pulled her arms away, turned toward her, and put her arms around his neck.