Paulo was on his feet, too, and moved with surprising speed for an old man, to stand between Moore and the door. “Call your saboteurs back, General. And do it quick.”
“Yes,” Racker said. “Do it before something serious happens to Skyship.”
“Don’t worry,” Moore said. “They’re not going to blow the thing out of the air. Any sabotage will be limited, and if one of my people can get to Jeeling and kill him, that would be the best of all possible results. As soon as he’s out of the way, we can send in experts to tear into the workings of Skyship.”
“I want the names of all your operatives,” Jonathan Racker said. He walked slowly over and stood beside Paulo, glaring up at Moore.
“Sure,” the General said, “after one of them becomes a hero.” He stepped around both men, strode toward the door. “And don’t try to stop me. I have full control of the officer corps, and our entire military force.”
“I have another idea,” Maureen said. “Let the good General keep his operatives on the ship. General Moore, I have a suggestion that might work for all of us.”
The officer hesitated, looked at her suspiciously. His eyes were afire, but he heaved a small sigh and remained where he was.
She continued. “Have your operatives remain in place, General, but tell them to suspend activities. Just for a while, so that we can send a peace delegation up to Skyship, a group of trained negotiators who can get through to Billy and find some way to end this stand-off.”
Moore folded his arms across his chest, which she interpreted as negative body language, but the expression on his face softened a bit, as he seemed to be considering the idea.
“We haven’t played the negotiation card with him yet, gentlemen,” Stuart said. “Instead, we’ve only sent demands for him to step down, and so has Prime Minister Yhatt. All in the form of electronic communications that Billy’s staff prints out for him to read.”
“I’d rather tell him what to do, instead of asking,” General Moore said. “That’s my way of doing things.” He smiled at Maureen and said, “I am a military man, after all, and that’s the way we do it.”
She smiled in return, but then looked away quickly. He was using those lady-killer eyes on her again. Is he trying to seduce me? Is he saying, he’ll go along with my idea if I...?
She dismissed the idea as a figment of her imagination. Her physical side might like to sleep with him, even if she was married, but intellectually and emotionally, she knew it would be a huge mistake. She loved her husband Paddy despite their quarrels, and besides, this was a man who conquered people, and then moved on—as if he were going from one military objective to another.
General Moore looked at Racker, said, “Get ahold of Prime Minister Yhatt and tell him we’re sending a negotiation team.”
The old industrialist glared, but nodded. All of them knew that Yhatt was little more than a figurehead leader for the AmEarth Empire, propped up by powerful corporate and military interests. He would not argue with this.
“In fact, I like Stuart’s idea so much,” Moore said, “that I think she should go on the mission. And Paul, too.” Looking at the stock and commodities tycoon, he added, “Billy used to like you better than anybody on our side, from what I hear.”
“That was a long time ago,” Paul Paulo said. He thought for a moment, then said, “All right, I’ll go.” Then he looked at Maureen.
She nodded. “I think it’s a good idea.”
Moore grunted something that Maureen couldn’t make out, and marched out of the office.
When he was gone, Paulo said, “Now we have another problem. That cocky son-of-a-bitch is on the verge of going renegade on us.”
CHAPTER 16
Some of Billy’s detractors even question the wisdom of Skyship, because of its intervention in the natural processes of the planet and its atmosphere. They assert that he is playing with science, potentially setting in motion an ecological disaster, brought on by his unwise tampering. They completely ignore the fact that the atmosphere was not ruined by natural processes; it was ruined by the careless actions of human beings.
—From the JeeJee Training Manual
Billy Jeeling had his own secrets, places in his mind where only he could venture, and places on Skyship that were similar—where no one was permitted to go except him—not even his most trusted robots. Years ago he had been the only confidante of the brilliant inventor Branson Tobek, and most of the secrets—at least the ones that mattered most to Billy—were not his own. They were Tobek’s, and the old man took them with him when he died. Billy had become famous because of Skyship, but the great vessel was largely a mystery to him, the way it kept going on its airborne rounds, mostly on automatic. It was like a perpetual motion machine, which seemed impossible.
Now Billy sat at a viewing window, gazing into a hidden laboratory at the heart of Skyship, part of a large core section around which the great ship had been built. One of his personal security robots stood nearby, alert to dangers, awaiting any command he might give. The sentient machine buzzed softly, while the vertical light tube on its torso pulsed pale green.
This was one of the older models that Billy had designed and constructed himself; they knew sensitive things that he didn’t want to get out to the other robots, or to any of their handlers, or other technicians. He had a name for each of this series, to which they responded. In the Starbot series, this was the first Starbot, and went by that name. The other five were Starbot 2 through Starbot 6. Billy housed them in a secret place in the core section of the great ship, where only he and these few robots had access. They reported to no one but him, and if any unauthorized person or machine tried to access their secrets, the ‘bots would turn violent in unison, and then self-destruct.
It was in the laboratory beyond this window that Branson Tobek had done his most important thinking and testing, where he developed many of the concepts that went into the construction of the massive vessel. He had come up with virtually all of those wondrous ideas himself, while leaving the tasks of assembling and building to others, with Billy as his go-between, making everyone believe that the ideas were Billy’s own.
Years before that, a teenage Billy Jeeling had seen a bearded man walking in his neighborhood in a small township, his shoulders slumped over, looking as if he were lost. The man appeared to be in his late seventies and was quite diminutive, and had been wandering around one sunny summer afternoon, talking to himself, but not speaking loudly enough for others to understand. He was in his own universe, and people were saying he must be crazy. Billy had not been so sure about that, and had brought the fellow back to awareness by talking to him and getting him to provide his name.
At first Branson Tobek had been angry at the interruption, for having been pulled out of his deep thoughts. Then, when he realized that he had been like a sleepwalker in daylight, and might have walked out into traffic, he had been gracious and appreciative.
Billy made sure the odd little man got home, and while walking with him Billy had answered questions that were put to him. The young man said he was a top student at his high school, and was on course to graduate with honors in a few months, shortly after his sixteenth birthday. He hoped to attend to a prestigious university on a full scholarship afterward, where he would study engineering. Billy also said he had entered a national robotics contest, and was in the midst of building a robotic baseball player—a mechanical man that could hit prodigious home runs against any pitch, no matter how fast or slow or complex, or how good the pitcher was. After winning the contest, he hoped to show what the robot could do in a demonstration before a major league game.
“So, you want to be famous one day?” Tobek had asked, with a bemused expression on his face.
“I might succeed in getting my fifteen minutes of fame,” Billy said. “But if I ever got more than that, I’d reject people who tried to take over my life, you know, agents and the like. I might have to tell them to leave me alone, that I just want to finish high school
and be a normal teenager.”
“Why the baseball angle?”
“My Dad and Mom are dead now, from a car accident—so I’m living with my great aunt. But Dad used to be a baseball scout for a big league team, and he knew important people—so I’m hoping to use some of his old contacts to let folks know about my robot in a baseball uniform. Hopefully, they’ll want to see what it can do.”
“Maybe your mechanical slugger can be elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame someday.”
Billy laughed. “That would really be something, wouldn’t it? Say, you’re just kidding me, aren’t you?”
“I suppose I am, but I must say you are an impressive young man.”
“Well, I am a hard worker, and my mind is always active. Maybe too active at times, some people tell me.”
The two walked in silence for awhile, until reaching the door to Tobek’s bungalow-style house, where he thanked Billy. “You’ve performed a very good deed today, young fellow,” he said, in a soft voice.
They shook hands. “Thank you, sir,” Billy said.
After opening the door, Tobek turned and said, “Robotics is one of my special interests, something I enjoy doing. I’m something of an inventor myself, having developed a variety of things.” He chuckled, adding, “If I took the time to do it, maybe I could build a pitching robot to strike out your batting robot every time.”
“I’m sure you could, sir,” Billy had said, in the most respectful of tones. Always a polite young man, he’d been taught to be that way by his parents and his Great Aunt Lanaya. He always respected older people, anyway, so this fit his personality. Branson Tobek had seemed ancient to him, the way he was stooped over and spoke in such soft tones, but Billy learned later that he was only in his late forties, but looked much older.
Tobek went inside alone, and closed the door behind him.
The following day, Billy went to the door of his own home when Aunt Lanaya told him a woman was there, asking for him. The woman, who gave her name merely as Millie, said she worked for Tobek, shopping for his groceries, doing his laundry, and cleaning his house. She said Mr. Tobek wanted to see him.
So Billy accompanied her there and went inside, where Tobek awaited him in a small parlor, decorated with old furniture and curtains. For an hour, they sat and spoke of a great concern the man had, that the air, land, and water of the planet were all terribly polluted. In a fervent voice he said something needed to be done on a big scale to help the environment, and especially the polluted, damaged atmosphere, because millions of people were dying of skin cancer, breathing problems, and other conditions.
Having heard about a number of environmental issues before this discussion, young Billy understood why Tobek was saying the air was more important than anything else, and from all of the scientific details he was rattling off, this seemed to be his specialty. He had historical comparisons of air quality from an analysis of ancient ice, cliff faces and other methods, and he droned on and on about such things, hardly taking a breath, it seemed.
Finally Tobek paused, and gazed earnestly at Billy. “Are you following what I’m saying?”
“I’m trying very hard, sir.”
Tobek nodded, said, “All over the world, the air looks dirty on too many days, and even when it doesn’t look dirty, it still is. Rarely do we see the lovely blues that the sky should be; instead it often has a sickly yellow filter of pollution through it, muting the natural hues. If we could just clean up the air all over this world, that would be a good place to start, serving as an inspiration for other ecological repair work that is needed, on the land and in the vast, interconnected oceans.”
He had spoken so earnestly, with so much passion, that Billy had hardly said anything, not wanting to interrupt him. Yet, every so often, Tobek would pause again and ask, “Are you sure you’re following me? Do you understand what I’m talking about?”
The teenager had kept saying he understood, which was an overstatement. Actually, he was only picking up bits and pieces. And on one occasion he said, “You’re talking about matters of immense importance, sir.”
“That is right, young Billy Jeeling. And know this: I expect to complete the cleanup of the atmosphere in my lifetime—a huge geoengineering project that will restore AmEarth’s air to what it was in ancient times. That should keep me busy for a few years.”
Billy had thought he must be kidding because he was so old, but saw no twinkle in his eyes, no hint of a smile. He seemed to really believe that he could accomplish something like that in the few years he had remaining.
“That sounds like a Herculean task,” Billy had said. “From what I’ve heard, the skies over the developing nations are badly polluted and getting worse every day, from industrial and auto emissions. Those nations can’t afford to take the remedial measures that more advanced countries have had in place for decades. How would you get them to change their habits? It would be tremendously expensive, would require a lot of diplomacy.”
Now the gentleman did smile, softly. “I have the answers for you, but to provide them we would need to work closely together.” He paused. “You are highly intelligent; I can tell such things about people, and you exude an intellectual curiosity that is nearly equal to my own. Young man, I am offering you a job as my assistant. If you accept, it means you would need to forego your school studies, at least for a few years.”
Without asking what the position would pay, Billy said, “Your work sounds very interesting sir, and of critical importance. I’ll work for you, but I can only promise you the two remaining months until I graduate high school. After that—”
“Young man, as soon as you see what I have in mind, when you understand the way I intend to achieve my goal, I think you’ll prefer to work for me.” He nodded. “All right. I’ll take the risk of revealing incredible information to you, Billy Jeeling. And I must ask you not to discuss any of the things I teach you with others. They would never be able to understand. It would take too much energy to explain.”
Billy nodded, then followed the man down a narrow wooden staircase into the basement. On the way, Billy thought of horror movies he’d seen, where the protagonist wasn’t supposed to go down stairs like that, or into a dark alley, or into the shadowy woods. But he continued on anyway, and entered the basement laboratory behind Tobek. It smelled a little musty.
“Even Millie is not permitted to come down here,” Tobek said, as he opened the squeaking door of a room in the basement. “You are the first I have invited.”
The room contained an array of intriguing machines, which Tobek said were for generating three-dimensional schematics, used in computer simulations, and for building prototypes for testing and analysis. There were projection screens and illuminated computer screens all around the room, running through sequences, calculating and providing recommendations to the inventor. Some screens showed complex but interesting engineering sketches, of devices that Billy could not comprehend.
“Now we begin,” Tobek said. “First I will tell you what my big concept is, how a great airborne ship and its fleet of skyminers will fit into the picture, and then we will discuss how these machines are to be built....”
~~~
So many years had gone by since then, so many events had transpired. The laboratory that Billy gazed into now was a different one from the original lab in Tobek’s house. Billy moved his maglev chair on its cushion of air, going in reverse a little, and then forward at an angle, changing his position slightly at the glass, to give him a better vantage of the main laboratory, visible through an open doorway at the rear of the closest room.
This entire laboratory complex was much bigger and more advanced than the one in Tobek’s home; this was a network of connected rooms, filled with state-of-the-art scientific, mechanical, and computer apparatus. After obtaining funding and arranging for complete secrecy, the facility had been constructed in modular form on AmEarth and then attached to the first sections of Skyship before it lifted off into the air—so that the c
ore contained the propulsion system and numerous lab and habitation rooms, all enclosed in a hull that Tobek said would ultimately be the nucleus of a much larger vessel.
In and of itself, the core was a craft capable of lifting itself into low-AmEarth orbit, which Tobek promptly caused to happen, aided by a crew of robots. Billy had helped in the design and assembly of those ‘bots, and of others used in the construction of Skyship, and in the process he had learned amazing things from Tobek, far more than he could have ever imagined figuring out on his own, or learning in the curriculum of any school. Getting the craft off the ground took many years, far beyond the two months that Billy had originally proposed to work.
When Billy dropped out of high school that spring, he soon forgot about missing classes or any traditional form of education. He was now focused on something else, something far more meaningful to him. His young mind was being filled with fantastic ideas!
Aunt Lanaya had been disappointed at first, but had been impressed when she met Tobek and fell under the sway of the inventor’s considerable, soft-spoken charm. He hadn’t shown the old woman the basement lab, but had used enough impressive words and said enough to convince her that he and her great nephew were working on something that would have a significant and positive effect on AmEarth. It involved a scientific matter of utmost secrecy, he’d told her, while providing her with scant details, basically that it involved the atmosphere, and the environment of the entire planet.
“It will make Billy Jeeling’s name remembered for all time,” he promised her—and truer words were never spoken, before or since.
Hearing all he had to say, his lofty goals and promises, Lanaya had finally nodded her head. “I can see that this job is important to Billy,” she said, “and because it’s important to him, it’s important to me, too. He’s very smart, so I had hoped he would go on to the university and graduate—that’s especially important for young black men, you know—but I think he’s going to get an even better education with you.”
The Assassination of Billy Jeeling Page 12