Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion (3 page)

“Wait,” Barry said.
“Are you being serious now? Are you telling me that you want to
give us over fifty million dollars to make cheap glasses and a
missile defence system?”

“And Veraceo,” Cue Ball
said. “We want you to develop Veraceo.”

The room went silent
again. Barry and Brian looked to one another. Barry’s eyes drifted
to the surveillance camera above the door. “I would like to discuss
this alone with my colleague. Away from surveillance, please.”

Cue Ball opened the
door and gestured the way. “No problem, Barry. Let me take you
outside.”

----- X -----

They walked the grounds
of the Consec building on the opposite side to the helicopter pad.
There was a gravel pathway leading to what Cue Ball affectionately
called The Rose Garden. Sunken into the grounds, it was more gravel
than roses, with fine stone pathways that led down to the lake.

“Are we safe to talk?”
Brian mumbled. “Are we under surveillance?”

“Maybe,” Barry
responded. “Treat this conversation as though we are… But I don’t
think it matters. If they’re serious, if they deliver the money up
front and can prove a future revenue stream then it’s everything we
could want.”

Brian put his hands on
his hips to look out across the water. The sky was grey and the
water of the lake was the colour of lead. “It’s the lack of choice
that concerns me. I think we’re about to become owned by a faceless
corporation.”

Barry nodded. “For
fifty million dollars, I think we can stomach that.”

“I don’t like it. I
don’t like what they’ve said about passing laws to prevent the sale
of Veraceo. They’re looking for a total lockdown of the
technology.”

Barry strolled to stand
beside his friend and look out over the lifeless lake. “We were
short-sighted in thinking of Veraceo solely for advertising. We
never thought about it being used to sell a political concept. We
never thought about it in the hands of a political party, or an
entity wishing to reshape the population. Politics is power and
Veraceo is the king-maker.”

“Then it’s worth more
than fifty million in contracts,” Brian said. “We could charge the
moon for this.”

Barry folded his arms
and stared down at the floor as he considered his next thought.
“The fear is they’ll just take it. If we disagree and turn them
down. If you don’t sell them your expertise, they’ll either steal
it, or just figure it out for themselves. But you’re right, it’s
worth more than fifty million in contracts.”

“They can’t copy it.
Not yet. This isn’t an easy technology to replicate. Even if they
were to take my lab equipment it would be redundant without the
expertise. We still could be the competition.”

“And what do you think
they would do to a competitor? You heard what the man said about
them worried this technology could slip behind the iron curtain.
Imagine if the Soviets had Veraceo and wanted to use it as a
propaganda weapon against us. Everything they said in that meeting
is perfectly logical. The question is not whether we accept their
offer, but on what terms do we accept? For the money I’ll demand a
hundred million, non-negotiable; but we need to get them to
understand that we’re not prepared to sell our souls.”

----- X -----

On their return to the
Consec building Cue Ball was waiting by the doorway. “You had a
telephone call whilst you were outside,” he said. “Oleksander
Bartok tried to reach you both and asked that you call him back.”
He motioned them to a luxurious lounge. It was like an empty
airport lounge with seating for at least sixty people. The carpet
was red, the walls were white and the seating was tan coloured
Miles van der Rohe chairs. Each chair had a telephone on a side
table.

“If you take a
telephone each, I’ll have your call connected.”

Brian noticed how at
ease Barry looked. When he sat he folded one leg over the other and
leaned back in the chair with an effortless confidence to his
manner. Probably an act for the benefit of those watching.

The call connected.

“Hallo, this is
Oleksander Bartok.”

“Oleks, this is Barry
Conw… This is Barry Convex, I’m on the line with Brian
Spectrometer.”

“Gentlemen, hallo. I’m
so glad you made it to Consec, how is everything? Are they looking
after you?”

Brian and Barry looked
to one another. Brian made a slow wink and Barry made a nod with
his eyes; the non-verbal shorthand between close friends. They most
likely had been overheard in the rose garden. Perhaps there was a
man on the roof with a parabolic microphone. They’d spoken aloud of
feeling uncomfortable and out of the blue comes Oleksander Bartok
to assuage their fears.

“They’re making us a
low-ball offer,” Barry said. “It isn’t enough money. But, that
aside, our issue at the moment isn’t payment, rather it’s to do
with our comfort level. If we partner with Consec we need to feel
comfortable that we’re doing the right thing. We don’t yet know
enough about Consec to make that sort of decision.”

Bartok laughed. “This,
my friends, I understand perfectly. You will find this corporation
more like smoke, never quite able to hold it. The reason I call is
there is a social meeting of Consec partners this Friday. It is a
black tie dinner and I would like you to come as my guests. You
will meet many Consec partners with whom you can speak. Leave your
decision until after you meet the partners.”

----- X -----

Brian looked mildly
uncomfortable in his rented tuxedo; Barry looked sensational having
spent a princely sum having one tailored. He was already spending
his share before the cheque was written.

The limousine took them
to Downsview Airport and drove straight out to the runway. The
field was more commonly known as Canadian Forces Base Toronto and
the fact that they so easily made it onto an airbase with a salute
from the guards deepened the mystery of Consec all the more.

“Good evening,
gentlemen, I’m Jean, I’ll be looking after you for the flight.” The
stewardess was waiting at the bottom of the steps to a Gulfstream
G-III. “Mister Bartok told me to take good care of you.”

“Excuse me,” Brian
said. “Where are we going?”

“Maryland, in the USA.
We’ll be landing close to Washington D.C. The flight time is one
hour and twenty five minutes.”

They boarded the plane.
Barry took off his bowtie and opened his shirt collar. He rested
for the flight, enjoying the trappings and opulence. Cream leather
seats and a profound sound insulation compared to a regular flight,
a fawning stewardess offering fine champagnes, wines and
spirits.

“They’re sparing no
expense over us, are they?” Brian said.

Barry nodded. “I know.
I’m loving it.”

“Are you not
scared?”

“Terrified,” He
reclined the chair and closed his eyes. “But I’m going to try and
enjoy the adventure.”

On the receiving end
they were met by another limousine that drove them for less than
fifteen minutes to the private grounds of a huge, mansion-like
building. The front door was flanked by soaring columns four
storeys high that were lit with golden lighting. Fleets of
limousines were arranged in the courtyard and Brian noticed many
more down the side of the building. “Into the lion’s den we go,” he
mumbled.

As they entered, a man
built like a wrestler but with the face of a fashion model stopped
them. “Good evening, gentlemen. May I take your names?” Beyond the
guard were waitresses holding silver platters of champagne for the
new arrivals and beyond them was a society function in full swing.
The guard held a clipboard of the guest list.

“I’m Brian Olivier,
this is Mister Barry Conway, we’re meeting Oleksander Bartok.”

Barry added, “Our names
may be listed as Barry Convex and Brian Spectrometer.”

“Indeed you are.
Welcome, Mister Convex, Mister Spectrometer.”

They entered the soirée
to see men in tuxedos and women in ball gowns. There were military
medals, too. Lots of them. Retired generals judging by the coins
and ribbons. “Do you recognise anyone?” Barry asked.

“Nobody.”

They moved through the
room, literally rubbing shoulders with what felt like an
underground society of untold wealth. Ladies with glittering
diamond bracelets and plunging necklines were on the arms of
powerful looking men. A string quartet filled the air with the
sounds of fine music. Luxury perfumes and fine tailoring were the
norm.

“Brian, Barry, you made
it!” Oleksander Bartok stepped through the people with a wide smile
and wide open arms. He rested his champagne glass on a side table
and offered warm handshakes. “How was your trip?”

“Luxurious,” Barry
said.

He stepped back to
admire Barry’s tuxedo. “That is a fine suit, Barry, I see you have
a taste for the finer things.” Bartok turned back to his female
companion, a stunningly beautiful Indian girl with violet coloured
eyes. He gave her a small wave then turned back to Barry and gave a
wink, “I enjoy the finer things too.”

Barry grinned.

“Brian, there is
somebody I would like to introduce you to, please.” He led them
around the room and motioned to a man with a large grey beard and
small wire framed spectacles. “Brian Spectrometer, meet Doctor Paul
Ruth.” They shook hands. “Paul has a similar mind-set to you, I
believe. Interested in research rather than social gatherings.”

“Oh, I don’t know,”
Ruth said. His voice had a deep timbre. “I can always be tempted
with a wee dram.” He raised his glass.

“We are wanting to
tempt Brian into becoming a Consec partner,” Bartok added. “He’s a
scientist like you, Paul. He enjoys deep R&D; I was hoping you
could help twist his arm a little by telling him what it’s like to
have Consec as a backer.”

Ruth smiled, more with
his eyes than his mouth. His eyebrows raised and his eyes sparkled.
“It’s like no academic institution you have ever known. There are
no rounds of funding, nobody to impress, no forms or paperwork or
oversight. If you have an idea and want to pursue it, Consec will
provide the funding and resources, no matter how curious a project
you’re working on. So long as it’s aligned with Consec’s ideals,
they’ll write you blank cheques.”

“What field are you
in?” Brian asked.

“Pharmacology. I
developed sedatives and hypnotics. Like most drugs, the majority of
them never came to market but Consec saw the potential in some of
my work.” He chuckled a little. “Once Consec saw the potential they
bought my company and made me a partner.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Oh, yes. It was the
smartest decision I ever made.”

----- X -----

“I think Consec Leader
is ready to meet you,” Bartok said once the drinks were flowing.
“He’ll be speaking at the dinner tonight, but he’s cleared some
space to talk with you both privately.”

A security guard took
them upstairs and opened the doors to a darkened boardroom. There
was an open fire casting the room in a warm glow, plus a long
meeting table with green bankers lights arranged in neat rows down
either side. Deep in the room, a man worked at a luxurious desk
topped in green leather.

"Consec Leader,” the
guard said to get his attention.

The man looked up.
“Oleksander, good to see you.” He stood to reveal himself as far
taller than he appeared in the video they’d seen. His eyes were
strikingly blue, even in the gloom. The silver beard was cropped
close to his face and his silver hair swept back. “Who is this with
you?”

“May I present, Mister
Barry Convex and Mister Brian Spectrometer.”

The Leader’s eyes
sparkled and his mouth opened to a smile. “Indeed, Oleks,
gentlemen, I’ve been reading about you and I’m very pleased to make
your acquaintance. Would you join me?” He motioned to two facing
Chesterfield sofas ahead of the fire. He took one side, Barry and
Brian took the other. “I would imagine this is a whole other world
opening up to you… Brian, I was reading about your Veraceo system.
Quite remarkable. How did it come about?”

Brian coughed to clear
his throat. “It started out with Barry. He was experimenting with
zero-light optics using what we call an image accumulator. Light is
carried in little packets called photons, the accumulator gives the
photons more energy to make them easier to detect.” Barry nudged
Brian with his elbow, perhaps signalling not to give away too many
trade secrets.

“I see, so it was Barry
who discovered this?”

“I would call it a
joint effort. We were at college together, physics majors, Barry
went down the route of optics and I focussed on signal theory.
We’ve managed to make careers out of Barry coming up with
interesting problems in optics for which I find interesting
solutions.”

Consec leader smiled
and nodded his head slowly. “I was reading about you, Barry. Is it
true you sell spectacles?”

“Yes, Sir. Twelve
stores and a manufacturing base,” he replied.

“I sense some pride in
that.”

“I am proud. You know,
I believe it's a civic duty to start a business. What makes a
nation great is the amount of enterprise inherent in its people.
Starting a business whether large or small is important. It doesn’t
matter whether you're in the business of building the skyscrapers
or cleaning its windows… or selling spectacles. The resourcefulness
of a population is what makes a nation strong and there’s no finer
way to demonstrate that than owning your own enterprise.”

Consec Leader stretched
his arms out across the back of the Chesterfield. “Barry,” he
whispered. “You have no idea how wonderful it makes me feel to hear
that. Enterprise is everything. If you open a store you hire more
people. You create jobs. You add to the economy… That’s what Consec
does… That’s all we do.”