Saucer s-1

by Stephen Coonts

  Hedrick waited until the translators caught up, then said, 'Gentlemen, good luck tomorrow.'

  The members of the delegations puffed on Cuban cigars and sipped cognac while circling the saucer and surreptitiously eyeing the members of other delegations. In a far corner of the hangar, Hedrick had an ensemble playing chamber music.

  One of the Russians approached Charley. He was in his midthirties, with shoulders an ax handle wide, narrow hips, high cheekbones. 'You fly terrific,' the Russian told Charley.

  Hedrick approached the senior Japanese delegate, a distinguished corporate type with graying hair and an aide at each elbow. Charley Pine edged closer so that she could hear what was said. The Russian stayed with her. Rigby brought up the rear.

  'The saucer is what Japan needs,' Hedrick said smoothly, 'to power Japan out of the economic malaise that has paralyzed her these last few years.'

  'Yes, Mr. Hedrick,' the senior man replied, in perfectly understandable English. 'The advantages inherent in the technology could be very significant.'

  'I also am a test pilot,' the Russian told Charley. 'I fly for Mikoyan. Test experimental fighters, fly air shows… Have you seen the Paris Air Show?'

  'Alas, no,' Charley said and concentrated on Hedrick. 'Reactors, antigravity, computers, metallurgy, hydrogen from water… ' Roger Hedrick shook his head slowly, as if the very thought of all these technological achievements made his head throb. 'The money Japan spends each year on foreign oil would purchase a dozen saucers.'

  'You have a dozen?' the Japanese gentleman asked with a straight face.

  'Sorry,' Hedrick replied seriously, 'just the one.' 'We were wondering about the legal title to the saucer, Mr. Hedrick. The reach of American courts is legendary, and we understand the saucer was in the United States recently.'

  'Very briefly,' Hedrick agreed, nodding his head. 'What assurance can you give us that your title is… clear?'

  'What I am selling, sir, is hardware, not paper. The winning bidder tomorrow will fly the saucer wherever he chooses.'

  'I see.'

  'Only the strong survive,' Hedrick continued. 'The saucer will make some nation very strong.'

  '… A beautiful woman,' the Russian was saying, 'should never sleep alone.'

  Charley Pine turned to him with a start. 'What makes you think I sleep alone?'

  The senior Chinese official did not speak English, so Hedrick's translator adroitly appeared at his elbow as Hedrick approached, with Charley Pine and her entourage a few paces behind.

  'Mr. Wu, it is a great honor having the vice premier of the People's Republic here as my guest.'

  Wu nodded and puffed furiously on his cigar.

  Hedrick steamed on. 'I hope you are as impressed with the saucer as I have been these last few days.'

  'Yes, yes,' said Wu between puffs, according to the translator.

  'Perhaps the hour has finally come for China to surpass Japan as the superpower in Asia.'

  Wu looked at his watch.

  A bit nonplussed, Hedrick continued, 'With a billion and a half people, China needs the nuclear technology contained in this machine.' He laid a manicured hand on the saucer. 'Freedom from oil, a clean, safe fuel, computer technology fifty years ahead of its time — the saucer will give some nation a huge technological lift. In the right hands, it might allow a national economy to leapfrog decades of development.'

  'Perhaps it confers too large an advantage,' Wu muttered and appeared to lose himself in thought and tobacco smoke.

  'I have had much experience with matters romantic,' the Russian test pilot said softly to Charley Pine, who had missed the last sixty seconds of his pickup spiel.

  Ten feet away, Roger Hedrick gazed at the saucer as if it were a holy relic for a few more seconds, then moved off toward the small knot of people surrounding the senior European.

  Charley looked up into her Russian's warm blue eyes, smiled distractedly, then launched off after Hedrick.

  Hedrick made an oblique approach to Pieraut, who was in conference with the German and Italian, as usual. 'Here, gentlemen,' he said, sweeping his hand at the saucer, 'is the catalyst to allow the European economy to catch and surpass the United States. Think what the technology you have seen today could do for the European aerospace industry! Gentlemen, the time has come to expand our horizons, to realize that there are no limits. None at all.'

  'Unfortunately,' the German said, 'there are always limits, Mr. Hedrick. The saucer has to be paid for, one way or another. But we were wondering, Why are the Americans not here? The British?'

  'I did not invite the Americans or the British,' Hedrick said. 'I suspect they might be tempted to try to take the saucer from me by force or legal process.' 'Have they a legal claim?'

  'Of course not. The saucer was discovered by an employee of a company of mine. I own the saucer and have the right to do with it what I will. My intention is to sell it to the highest bidder.'

  The Italian looked skeptical, Charley Pine thought. After handshakes with every member of the delegation, Hedrick moved on.

  The senior Russian was a fiery young man named Krasnoyarsk. The Russian translator hovered at Hedrick's elbow. 'An extraordinary device, is it not, Mr. Krasnoyarsk?'

  'Quite extraordinary.'

  'The nation that mines the technology embodied in the saucer will gain a large competitive advantage,' Hedrick murmured. 'Here is the catalyst that will enable Russia once again to become a superpower.'

  'Russia is a poor nation, Mr. Hedrick,' said Krasnoyarsk with sadness in his voice. 'I am wondering why a man who wants so much money would invite my government to participate in this auction. Surely you don't think we have the foreign exchange to pay twenty, thirty, forty billion dollars or more for this?' He gestured with his left hand.

  'Can Russia afford not to own this technology?'

  Charley missed Krasnoyarsk's reply because the Russian test pilot moved in front of her. She blew smoke in his face and stepped around him.

  Krasnoyarsk was saying, 'Mr. Hedrick, if you were selling tickets to heaven for a hundred dollars each, very few Russians could afford to purchase one. Instead, we would jump up and down outside on the sidewalk, shouting, "Isn't that cheap? Isn't that cheap?"'

  'I understand Russia lacks the foreign exchange to make an outright purchase.'

  'At least this trip offered us a nice airplane ride and some fine cognac and cigars,' said Krasnoyarsk after he listened to the translation. 'After the collapse of communism, we could no longer afford Mr. Castro's fine cigars.'

  Hedrick pursed his lips while he considered what to say. 'Perhaps your government should consider selling something of great value, something more capital intensive than the saucer.'

  'More capital intensive? The saucer's technology will soak up capital like a sponge. It will require new raw materials, new manufacturing techniques, new insights in chemistry, physics, mathematics, new factories, new everything. Believe me, Mr. Hedrick, we Russians know all about investing for tomorrow. We did that for seventy years.'

  Hedrick nodded. He half turned so that he and

  Krasnoyarsk were both facing the saucer. 'still,' the Australian said, 'I can think of something that would require more capital than the development of the technology in the saucer.'

  With a cigar between his teeth, Krasnoyarsk placed both hands on the smooth, dark, curved surface of the saucer and caressed it sensuously. 'What?' he asked,

  'Siberia,' said Hedrick and took another tiny sip of cognac.

  Charley Pine took a drag on her cigar and scrutinized Hedrick with new respect. The bastard thinks big.

  The Russian test pilot whispered in her ear, 'So, we sleep together, yes?'

  Charley Pine almost gagged on cigar smoke. She exhaled explosively and coughed. When that subsided, she whispered to Ivan the Russian Romeo, 'If only we could, but I have a social disease. It's a pesky little bug, and with medical help so iffy in Russia… '

  When the Cantrells returned to the Higginbotham Building
in Dallas for their second appointment, Mrs. Higginbotham had with her a gentleman about her age with white hair and ruddy skin, a lawyer named Rufus Howell.

  After she introduced Howell, Mrs. Higginbotham said as she settled into her chair, 'Tell me, Arthur, what is your interest in this matter?'

  Egg looked a bit embarrassed. This was only the second time that he had worn a suit in five years. Yesterday was the first.

  'Rip has spent every summer at my place in Missouri since his father died ten years ago. I got him interested in engineering. He's like a son to me, a son I never had.'

  'And you brought your brother into this?'

  'That's correct. I wanted legal advice.'

  'I will be blunt with you, gentlemen. How much money is the saucer worth?'

  Egg took a deep breath as he thought about that question. 'In the short run it's worth whatever a seller could induce a buyer to pay. In the long run, I think it will be the catalyst for much of the technological progress of our species in the twenty-first century. What is it worth? It's priceless. It's the Wright Brothers' first airplane, Bell's telephone, and Edison's lightbulb, all in one object.'

  Mrs. Higginbotham's face glowed. 'Have you seen the saucer?'

  Egg nodded. 'And flown in it. The experience of a lifetime, I'm telling you.' He lowered his voice conspiratorially and leaned forward in his chair. 'I was in the saucer when we flew over Coors Field in Denver.'

  Mrs. Higginbotham laughed. Even the lawyer grinned.

  'How extraordinary,' she said after a bit. 'We are imprisoned in this place and time, and yet… ' She fell silent.

  After a discreet interval, Egg said, 'I might as well tell you the rest of it, Mrs. Higginbotham, since you are in the oil business. The saucer is hydrogen-powered. It cracks water into hydrogen and oxygen and burns the hydrogen.'

  'I wondered about that.'

  'The saucer may point the way to the use of hydrogen as a regular motor fuel. It would be cleaner than gasoline and much cheaper, although motors to burn it in might be more expensive.' Egg made a gesture of irritation. 'All that is speculation about what might be, someday. Predicting the future without the use of a crystal ball is a risky business. Right now the saucer is just an artifact.'

  'Yesterday afternoon,' Mrs. Higginbotham said, 'I made a few telephone calls. I wanted to know some more about you gentlemen.'

  'A wise precaution,' Olie Cantrell said.

  She fluttered a hand. 'You, sir, are very highly spoken of by the senior partner of the law firm we regularly use in Chicago.'

  It was Olie's turn to look a bit embarrassed.

  Mrs. Higginbotham steamed right on. 'You, Arthur, are a well-known consulting engineer. I called my chief engineer, and he not only knows of you, he knows you. He said you have worked with Wellstar on several occasions.'

  'That is correct,' Egg told her, nodding.

  'He said you have some patents?'

  'Twenty-seven. Mostly in the field of manufacturing processes.'

  Mrs. Higginbotham looked at each of them in turn, then said, 'If young Rip became the owner of the saucer, somehow achieved a legal position that allowed him to license the technology, what would be the benefit to Wellstar?'

  Egg and Olie looked at each other. 'We have given this a good bit of thought, Mrs. Higginbotham,' Olie said. 'We suggest you retain a forty-nine-percent interest in any propulsion technology derived from or based upon technology in the saucer.'

  Mrs. Higginbotham turned to her attorney. 'Mr. Howell, please prepare a bill of sale with those provisos.' She turned back toward Egg. 'What is Rip's full name?' 'Stepford Sidney Cantrell.' 'No wonder they call him Rip.' 'Stepford was his father's name.' 'And Sidney?'

  'His mother was raised in Sidney, Nebraska.'

  'I see. Well, Mr. Howell, sell the saucer to Stepford Sidney Cantrell for the sum of one dollar cash in hand paid, with Wellstar retaining a forty-nine-percent interest in any hydrogen propulsion technology derived from or suggested by the saucer. Is that language acceptable to you gentlemen?'

  'You may leave out the word "hydrogen," Mrs. Higginbotham,' Olie said. 'There is an antigravity system in the saucer that is going to make helicopters obsolete. I would think the word "propulsion" also includes that system. I believe it would also include the nuclear reactor that is the power source for both the antigravity system and the water separator.'

  The lawyer and Mrs. Higginbotham stared open-mouthed.

  'Sorry,' said Mrs. Higginbotham, who recovered first. 'Antigravity? That sounds so weird, so — '

  'The modern computer would astound Edison,' Olie remarked.

  'It's real, believe me,' Egg said. 'I've seen it, touched it, flown in it. The saucer is as real as this desk.' He rapped his knuckles several times on Mrs. Higginbotham's varnished mahogany.

  'Go write it, Rufus,' Mrs. Higginbotham said to the lawyer, who nodded and went out the door.

  'I'm an old woman, gentlemen, but my, this sounds exciting! I do hope it works out for Rip, and for all of us.'

  'We hope so too,' Egg said fervently. He got out his wallet, removed a dollar bill, and laid it on the table.

  'But what if he can't get the saucer away from Roger Hedrick?'

  'That would not be an insurmountable obstacle,' Egg said after a glance at Olie. 'I wish I could say more at this time, but I cannot.'

  Mrs. Higginbotham nodded. 'Since we're sharing confidences, I might as well warn you. I've known Roger Hedrick for fifteen years. He is not an honorable man.'

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charley heard diesel engines several times during the night. The third time she went to the window to look. She saw three trucks near the horse barn, at least a dozen men. The men all seemed to be carrying weapons. As she watched, the men got into the trucks, which then drove slowly away.

  She pulled a chair over to the window and sat there with the blanket from the bed wrapped around her. Her back was sore when she moved, she had a headache from the wine and cognac, and she could still taste that cigar even though she had brushed her teeth, and tongue, three times.

  Of course Roger Hedrick has armed security around, probably as many men and weapons as he could muster. He would be a fool not to, and a fool he wasn't.

  She wondered about Rip, wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was getting over the loss of the saucer. Unable to stand the silence any longer, she turned on the television. Professor Soldi appeared, talking about the saucer, how it should be in a museum for scientists to study and learn from. Well, Soldi and Hedrick were on opposite sides of a great divide.

  'The saucer is a product of a great civilization,' Soldi said, 'and as such embodies not just the technical knowledge of the civilization, but the social organization as well. If we can learn the processes used to manufacture the systems in the saucer, we can learn many things about how the people who made it organized their lives, their society, their civilization. Just as the pyramids and hieroglyphics have taught us about ancient Egypt, the saucer will instruct us about the people who made it.'

  A moment later, in response to a question from the interviewer, Soldi said, 'People seem to think the benefits of the saucer will be things. Nothing could be further from the truth. Look how the telephone has revolutionized life on this planet during the past seventy-five years. Because of the telephone, we live much differently from the contemporaries of Alexander Graham Bell.'

  'But can you, or anyone, predict the changes?' asked the interviewer.

  'Of course not,' Soldi responded. 'Change is the one constant in human affairs. Change is unpredictable, unwanted, unplanned for, evolutionary, revolutionary, resisted, welcomed — and absolutely inevitable.'

  'Professor, several of our guests have pointed out that the change that you envision will not be change caused by man, nature, or even God. They argue that this will be change stimulated by an alien agency.'

  'I find that reasoning ludicrous,' responded the professor. ' We are responsible for the human condition. Life is a constan
t struggle to better our chances for survival. That is a law, like birth and death.'

  Soldi seemed to search for words. 'We are trapped like flies in amber,' he said, 'imprisoned in our time and place. The saucer will let us see what was and what will be.'

  Charley Pine watched for a while longer and finally clicked the television off. That crowd Hedrick invited here couldn't care less about the human condition.

  Hedrick had not mistreated her, other than to allow a little pounding by friend Rigby. And he hadn't killed her. She had thought that he might after she flew the last flight for him, but he hadn't. Now she wondered if Hedrick was going to ask her to chauffeur home the saucer's happy new owners.

  If he sent her to Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow, or Munich in the saucer, or merely let her walk out to the highway and thumb a ride into Sydney, there wasn't much she could do to hurt him. Oh, she could be a minor irritation, a flea on the elephant's ass, but that wasn't going to embarrass Mr. Roger Hedrick very much. He would probably be too busy to notice.

  Of course, if she had this figured wrong, tomorrow night she was going to be very dead. Rigby would love to do her, that's a fact. The bastard would probably strangle her just so he could watch her face.

  Hedrick sure seemed to be enjoying himself last night, hawking the saucer like it was a used Chevy. He was going to make a huge, heaping pile of money, then live happily ever after.

  Or would he? Charley Pine mused on that question.

  He would have cash or securities for the saucer, but whoever got the saucer would have the future in his hand. The saucer was a collection of seeds, many of which would probably grow and bear fruit. All manner of wondrous things would come from the saucer for whoever had it.