The Cumerian Unraveling Trilogy (Scars of Ambition, Vendetta Clause, Cycles of Power) Read online

  Opening a door that led into a massive subterranean warehouse, Jim surveyed the solar stations that would dot the globe and shift electricity to whichever area was in need of power. From where he stood near the top of the room, he looked down on the top of the platform upholding the solar cells and a dish that would relay the charged electrons to a satellite in space. As he descended the rickety metal steps to the floor, he viewed the underside of the platform, which was constructed of molded rock and cemented sand meant to blend in with the environment.

  When the sun went down, the remote solar station would flip over and it would be like nothing had ever been there.

  “No grease on your hands, Darby? Looks like you haven’t even started working yet.” Jim joked to his lead engineer once the group came over.

  “You’re one to talk,” Darby said, pointing to Jim’s spotless hands, and the group laughed. Unlike with the marketing guys, Jim was in his element here.

  “Let’s see if we can fix that. What’s the situation?” he asked, and the group walked over to some monitors hanging on the wall.

  “We’re having some problems with the satellite linkup,” Darby explained, scratching his scraggly beard. “The goal is to make the stations as inconspicuous as possible, but right now the volume of electricity sent to the satellite is going to look like a never-ending lightning bolt shooting into the sky.”

  Jim nodded, crossing his arms in front of him and looking at the data on the screens.

  “That’s what we need these transfer batteries for. With them, we’ll essentially be sending waves that’ll carry and mask the energy, rendering it invisible. The Lus won’t even let us look at the batteries until we’ve bought them for fear that we’d steal the technology and duplicate them.”

  “I’m willing to bet that’s how they got them in the first place,” said another engineer, Elise.

  “Me, too,” Jim agreed, “but the point is we’re incredibly close to being able to deploy and activate these. We have installation crews in the hundreds standing by, but Arnold insists on arguing with them about the price. How is the revolving mechanism holding up over time? What about the bonding agent and the camouflage?”

  Jim turned with his team and walked under the station, touching the rocks glued to the underside of the platform.

  “We’ve tested over a thousand revolutions before the engine showed any signs of strain. Although we could probably get away with less, I think yearly maintenance would be the best course of action, as well as having permanent teams in areas of high station density. There’s no telling when a falling tree or a rampaging sorus over in Plagrass could knock one of these out completely,” Darby said, and Jim used the back of his hand to rub his eye.

  “I’m sure I’ll have to fight for it and Arnold will want to squeeze every count he can get from the maintenance,” he said, his thoughts drifting.

  There were millions of poor in places like the ancient cities of Madora and Horux that needed power to break out of the same hand-to-mouth lifestyle they’d been living for centuries, and this technology could provide that. If it were affordable even for them, that would still provide enough profit to make him and Keize two of the richest people on the planet, but it would also do something so much more meaningful for him. It could break the never-ending cycles of clan violence and anarchy that plagued the other side of the world.

  Jim returned upstairs to the conference room for a marketing meeting with his partner, where they were grappling with very different possibilities. Taking his seat next to Arnold Keize at the smoothsand table, Jim gave him a nod and a smile. Arnold, who had dark circles under his eyes and short black hair, put his arm across Jim’s shoulders for a quick hug.

  “If we change our standard outreach pitch to ‘Bolt & Keize is the energy of the future now,’ we predict we’ll see at least a five percent increase in response rates to mailings and other print advertisements,” said a gangly marketing rep sitting with six other nice-looking professionals. He distributed a few glossy ad markups.

  “But shouldn’t we be investing more in the technology than in advertising? Our products aren’t perfected yet,” Jim countered, and the rep smiled. Jim must’ve heard his name at some point long ago but couldn’t remember it.

  “We can’t spend more on machinery unless we bring in more revenue,” the man said.

  “It doesn’t matter if the service isn’t perfect as long as we fix it later,” Arnold said in a contemplative manner.

  “Exactly,” the rep added. “Establishing a growing revenue stream is the most important piece of developing our energy network.”

  Jim grumbled to himself. He was always outgunned at these meetings and generally hated being there, but it’d gotten worse since Maura died. Before that, the marketers had felt like they needed to impress both owners, but now they were essentially pitching only to the badger beside him.

  “Isn’t it the least bit unethical to sell a product that you know won’t be reliable all of the time?”

  The rep’s incessant smile couldn’t cover up his condescension.

  “Of course it is,” he said, glancing to his department colleagues. Apparently the lack of ethics didn’t mean to anyone that they shouldn’t do it.

  The woman next to him took her cue and cleared her throat, then passed out a pair of thin booklets.

  “Let’s turn our attention to our competitor analysis, particularly Bracken Energy in preparation for your meeting with the CEO later today. While sales in the ClawLands and the OrePlains have been remarkably dismal, and our revenue is comparatively much less, we feel it’s time to take them head-on. Of course there’s brand loyalty there, but if we make it clear how Bracken Energy is running out of gas and gouging their customers compared to our lower rates, we could chip away at that significantly.”

  Arnold leaned back in his chair and put his fingers together. The measured way he breathed always gave Jim the impression that some great tension raged within him. These decisions were Arnold Keize’s battlefield, and in response he drew his greatest weapon.

  “No.”

  The marketing reps flinched. One reached for a glass of water.

  “Our current campaigns aren’t going to get much success if we don’t let everyone know that Bracken’s energy reserves are running out and use that to pry away their customers,” the rep said.

  “No,” Arnold repeated, and for once Jim agreed with him. The rep set his pen down and waited until Arnold leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.

  “You’re looking at this the wrong way. If you’re pursuing a woman and you know she’s allergic to chocolate, do you stop a fellow suitor when he tries to feed her some? Absolutely not. You let him go about his business, fail miserably, and then you take advantage of the opening.”

  Jim put a hand against his temple and laughed despite himself.

  “That’s a great metaphor, Arnold! What do you think happens to the woman when she eats the chocolate? I don’t know what openings of hers you’ll want to take advantage of if she’s dead,” he said to unmoved faces.

  “The point is,” Arnold went on as if Jim had said nothing, “we don’t want to be successful in the Claws or the OrePlains, because doing so would alert our enemies to their imminent peril. Our estimates show that the gas leaks will dry up completely in less than two decades, which will utterly obliterate their business. Let them continue on in denial. We’ll secure the future of the energy sector here and in Plagrass, and by the time they think to do anything different it’ll be too late.”

  When the meeting ended and the marketing reps left with their papers just before Lowell Bracken was set to arrive, Jim swiveled in his chair to take a look at his co-owner. He knew for Arnold, only his success seemed to matter, even if it meant betraying their customers.

  “We can’t keep manipulating people with these advertisements,” Jim said.

  “We’re sticking with the new plan!” Arnold snapped. “Those assholes at Bracken don’t need to know the
y’re on the verge of running out of their product. So we do whatever it takes to get more customers until we can takeoever, and at the end of the day it all works out. OK?”

  Rarely did Arnold speak to Jim so harshly; usually it was all pats on the back and playful knocks on the shoulder. But his gruff partner must’ve sensed they were at a crucial point just as Jim did, where they either advanced into becoming a force throughout Iyne, or they lapsed into nothing more than a cutting-edge novelty. Still, sometimes Jim got the impression his partner really hated him and resented him for trying to bring a little dignity and purpose to the business.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Arnold went on after a pause. “I didn’t mean to get so hot. Let’s just focus on the meeting at hand with Lowell Bracken. We need to come off soft, but not so soft that he thinks we’re playing a game. Once his ego is massaged, we send him on his merry way and continue dismantling his empire.”

  Jim had known of the Brackens forever, had even been a customer until he’d built the panels on his mountain home with Maura. Bracken was someone he’d read about in the news, a power player with a love for energy technology, and Jim wanted to at least see if they could stand on the same playing field.

  “What do you think he’s coming here for?” he asked his partner. “There’s no itinerary.”

  Arnold rubbed the bags under one eye and tapped his fingers on the table until a nasty smirk emerged.

  “He’s here because he’s scared. It’s as simple as that. No doubt he’s gotten a hold of our numbers from some unscrupulous investor, realizes we pose a real threat, and wants to make sure he’s still king of the electrical outlets. All we have to do is say we’ve established our growth plan, make some comments about the environmental stuff to make him blow his top, and then scoot him out the door before he gets a hint of what we’re really up to.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  The voice coming from the door behind them boomed so suddenly it sent a nervous shock tingling through Jim’s skin. He twisted around to find Lowell Bracken standing in the doorway, adjusting his tie and grinning. There was no telling how long he’d been there or how much he’d heard.

  “Careless,” Arnold chided himself, looking like he was about to pass out. It was clear that playing dumb was no longer an option.

  “Your assistant showed me in and then I stopped off at the bathroom before finding my own way over, but it looks like you’ve started the meeting without me,” Lowell said, sauntering in and helping himself to some of the brandy on the refreshment table. Jim didn’t let their blown cover stop him from trying to make a good impression.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said, getting out of his chair and coming over. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jim Bolt.”

  “Sorry? I should be thanking you. I knew I might get a chance to work on my tan, but I didn’t expect an ego massage, as well. And please call me Lowell,” Bracken said. Complete control was the impression Jim received, but Lowell moved more slowly and stiffly than he expected.

  “And my partner, Arnold Keize,” Jim said once the loose-lipped badger finally got over his error and shambled from his chair.

  “An honor,” Arnold said, shaking hands with Lowell. Jim noticed the two shared an intense, scrutinizing glance that made Jim feel inadequate. How could he have already shown himself to be a light-weight when Arnold had immediately blown their position?

  “Thanks to you both for having me,” Lowell said, taking a sip and moving around to the other side of the table where the marketing reps had been. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t have too much time and need to get right down to business. Now, I can’t blame you for wondering why I’m here, not least of all because we’re the leader in the field, and your operation, though respectable, doesn’t even put you in the top one thousand grossing companies in Cumeria. But what we need—”

  “If I may,” Arnold interrupted, asserting himself before this turned into a lecture, “our rate of growth exceeds your own by a margin of four to one. Looking at year-over-year increases, we’re near the top and you’re not in the top thousand.”

  Lowell Bracken, leaning back comfortably in the chair, didn’t flinch at Arnold’s counter attack. His dark eyes conveyed nothing but confidence.

  “Once you reach the size and market share we have, growth like that simply isn’t possible, which I’m sure you know, but stick to those stats if they make you feel good. Back to my point, I think we need to establish some ground rules at the executive level here before things start to get really ugly,” he said.

  “And what kind of rules do you propose?” Arnold asked, conjuring a snide smile and no doubt prepping his favorite weapon.

  “Let’s just say we’re aware of the spy you sent to, ahem, inspect our facilities, and the last thing we really need is people crawling around in the dark where something could happen to our employees, our finances, or our families.”

  A threat? Jim wondered if that was all Lowell had really come here for—to threaten them. Of course, sending someone to damage their plant was Arnold’s idea, and Jim had known something like this would happen.

  “Is he dead?” Jim spoke up, hating that they were even talking about this. It wasn’t business; it was something much worse.

  “He won’t be coming home anytime soon,” Lowell said. “And that’ll be just the beginning if you insist on focusing more on our operation than yours. You don’t want to know how the blood can spread to every single department. It’s just not worth it.”

  “I know exactly what we’re playing with,” Arnold snapped, getting out of his chair. His face grew red and some spittle flew from his mouth. Bracken somehow knew that talking down to him was the perfect way to set him off. Jim never would’ve guessed.

  “Then you know how vulnerable you are,” Lowell continued calmly. “You don’t have the independence we have. Out here near the desert, water and food have to travel a long way to get to you. Plus, the only real reason you’re able to show a profit at all is because you’re sucking so hard on the Grand Council’s teat.”

  “Your son sits on the Resource Distribution Committee and you mean to tell me you don’t get anything from the government?” Keize roared, his face red and veins pulsing. Bracken almost had him doing back flips, and it was hard for Jim not to take a little bit of pleasure in watching it play out.

  “Then I think you’re aware of how tenuous those benefits are. Really, let’s keep the business of this civil; the marketing can play out as it will, and we don’t need to find ourselves in any unfortunate circumstances,” Bracken said.

  Jim knew what was coming before Keize even opened his mouth.

  “No!” his partner bellowed, beside himself. And it was a shame he couldn’t keep control of himself.

  “Can we at least agree to stop the killing and keep our families out of it?” Jim said.

  “This man thinks he can come in here and intimidate us as if we were flies buzzing around his head, but I didn’t build this business so that I’d have to take this shit, not when I’ve got the tools at my disposal to fight back. If he wants to play dirty, I can play dirty,” he shouted down at Jim, who was stunned at how completely the badger had unraveled.

  Lowell cleared his throat and took another sip of the brandy, nodding approvingly at the liquor. He downed the rest and set the glass on the smoothsand table.

  “That’s an awful shame to hear when I figured all we needed was a gentleman’s agreement just between us to keep things clean,” he said, and surprisingly turned to look squarely at Jim for the first time, not that Keize was lucid enough to notice. “And I thought we might have common interests.”

  Jim absorbed those words, which sent his mind racing.

  “Well, you thought wrong. Now I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, and it’s pretty clear we’re not going to find any common ground here, so it’d be best if we had someone escort you out,” Arnold said.

  Keize got up from his chair and raised his hand to the a
ssistant down the hall, who came hustling over. Lowell nodded and came around from behind the table.

  “Great to meet you both, and at least now I know I won’t be responsible for what happens,” Lowell said. The assistant escorted him out, and Keize watched him walk all the way down the hall until he was out of sight.

  Jim’s mind couldn’t get over that previous comment. Did he really have common goals with Lowell Bracken? Was that what he really came here to say? Of course, with blood already on all of their hands, the professional relationship between the two companies was already becoming a head-on collision, so the fiery turn of the conversation had changed nothing.

  Turning to Arnold, Jim saw that he had started to come up for air.

  “The way you behaved was disgraceful, and more than that, it was so unlike you. What happened to playing it safe?”

  Keize chewed on a fingernail and nodded.

  “He got me rattled when he showed up early,” he admitted, staring off into space for a moment. “But he did leave himself open. He said he came here to talk about things just between us. If he didn’t tell the members of his board he was planning to make a deal that decreases his ability to compete with us, Lowell Bracken just violated one of the central tenets of his executive board bylaws. One call to the council investigators over this, and at best the board would throw him out of his own company, or at least create a debacle in the media.”

  Jim was taken aback at the conclusion Arnold had drawn. He knew the logic of it was sound, but the ethics of it were viscerally abhorrent.

  “He came here arguing to save people’s lives! Are we really going to punish him by making a case that protecting employees and family members from cold-blooded murder would prevent his business from competing?” Jim asked, the answer so painfully clear.