Creative Destruction

by Bill Kowaleski

Chapter 46: How It All Went Down

The low sunlight of late autumn reflected off of Lake Michigan and through the windows that lined the east-facing wall of Nigel’s office high atop the Hancock Tower. Nigel, Marshall Bourbonnais, Gerry Landis, Jason Wise, Jim McDermott, and Jack Clayburn were sitting around Nigel’s conference table in the nook beside his massive desk.

“I’ve never in my life experienced anything like this,” said Senator Bourbonnais. “A law less than a month old completely rescinded. Just wiped out like it never existed.”

“But I don’t think that was the most amazing thing,” said Senator Clayburn. “The complete about-face of Aliens Out shocked me even more. All of a sudden, they started supporting the introduction of Cygnian technology.”

“Because it’s being done by private industry,” said Nigel. “That’s the magic formula in your country. Whether or not it’s really true is less important than the appearance of its being independent of government.”

Jason Wise smiled. “Maybe, Nigel, or maybe it was because every major energy conglomerate in the world suddenly have access to all that Cygnian technology. Even if the industrialists tear each other to shreds, trying to decide who gets what, the Cygnians will give it to any of them who presents the required payment in ore.”

“Yes,” said McDermott, “the knives are out. They’re especially battling over the battery technology right now. It’ll settle down to two or three primary providers just like most markets, but for now, those thousand-mile car batteries that take two minutes to charge are dirt cheap.”

“I guess that if you divert the public sufficiently with amazing, new, cheap toys, they don’t much care where those toys come from,” said Jason Wise with a sigh. “I wonder, though, how will all of this new technology really change your world? Will it really lead to the utopia the Cygnians think will come? Given your species’ past, I doubt it.”

“But you Sirians aren’t all that different from us,” said Jerry Landis, “and you’ve surely attained that utopia.”

“Not just with technology,” said Jason. “We genetically engineered the nastiness out of ourselves. But we never did it to you. We figured that with you fighting amongst yourselves all the time, you’d pose no threat to us.”

“Well, thanks a lot for that!” said Marshall Bourbonnais.

“Tell me, what happened with that woman, Maria, I think her name was?” asked Jerry Landis, looking at Jason.

“Yes, Maria is fine. She’s gotten engaged to this guy from Ohio she says she met at a gun show, of all places. She says he’s been helping her to see that there’s a lot more to life than abstract causes. I’ve met a few times with her and this political consultant, Darrell, who was really running Aliens Out and briefed them on all that we Sirians, Eridaneans, and Cygnians have been up to on Earth. I think it helped them to realize that they had no chance of ever driving us off the planet.”

“What about Miles?” asked McDermott. “You pried him away from Maria; good job there. But what’s he up to now?”

Jason’s artificial face blushed. “Well, um, we’re living together. Miles is my life partner, or maybe I should say I’m his life partner since I will almost surely outlive him.”

Jerry Landis laughed. “Jason, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been hopelessly promiscuous. Are you telling me that that’s over now?”

“Yes, it is. And I mean it. I want to experience dedication, commitment. They’re something new to me.”

Jack Clayburn nodded his agreement. “That’s laudable, Jason. I’m a pretty conservative guy myself despite what the distinguished Senator from Mississippi here might think, so I support your efforts there and wish you success.”

“OK,” said Nigel. “Now, Jason, tell us all about Director Naïr. There’s so much I don’t understand. Why was he trying to sabotage Upper Zion if he was actually a Sirian operative? How did you plant him?”

Jason smiled. “One of our best operations ever, I must say, even though I’m patting myself on the back. The original Abdullah Naïr met an untimely death at the hands of his jealous brother. We caught wind of it and made a deal with Saeed. He could play ball with our agent, who would assume Abdullah’s identity, or we would make sure he would be convicted of murder.

“Saeed trained our agent until he could convincingly step in for Abdullah. Our agent’s job was to keep a close eye on the top people in the oil industry, reporting significant developments but intervening only when absolutely necessary. When Mr. Martin was threatened, we decided to give him a more, shall I say, active role.”

“I see,” said McDermott. “And I’m guessing that the plot to sabotage Upper Zion was a phony from the get-go. You guys already knew it was impossible. Unfortunately, Paul Welton was a victim of your plotting.”

“True enough,” said Jason. “But we had to convince the energy community that we were on their side. Paul is going to be OK. He’ll know more than any other human about fusion technology, so he’ll always be in demand once he returns from the secure side, and the Cygnians have introduced medication into his food which will extend his healthy life to age one hundred fifty.”

There were nods of approval and “I want some of that medication!” around the table. Outside, the constellations of city lights were brightening as the sky darkened. No one said a word for a long minute.

Then McDermott rose to his feet. “I want to put a formal end to our little cabal here. Our efforts to control the introduction of this new technology have been a spectacular failure and, all in all, it didn’t matter one bit.”

Everyone nodded, walked to the elevators, rode them down, and scattered into a crisp autumn night brightly lit by fusion power.

Proceed to the Epilogue...