NEW WORLD TRILOGY (Trilogy Title) (32 page)

“Let me tell you this, Henry: although there are still a few who seek to disrupt your efforts and those of the other forward-looking companies and organisations that are represented here at the conference, their power and their politics is based on an old economy and old wealth and old power.  This is the source of their problem.  Those who are short-sighted or just heavily committed will continue to fight against progressive developments until it’s no longer feasible or profitable to do so, or until they get the big picture; however, there are many that have already made the shift — many more will eventually.  A large number have already invested greatly in transition technologies and have done so for decades.  I mean, you’re one yourself, after all.”

“Well, that’s right…  I inherited a business that was essentially no longer viable.”

“So you changed directions and reinvented yourself.”

“Thankfully, my father was already dead.”

Abdul chuckles, then continues, “This is the situation with transition: if they can’t be convinced in the short-term, they need to be neutralised and bypassed one way or another.  But the future will get them eventually.”

“The future eventually gets everyone.”

“That it does,” replies Abdul with a smile.  “We’re privy to a considerable amount of quality data, and I can tell you that the clout of those who are resistant to change is diminishing rapidly, and it’s going to reach a threshold sooner rather than later; we want to bring that closer, as do you, no doubt.  These really are their last days.  It’s our conservative estimate that it will take around ten years for things to develop to the point where there’ll be little in their power to stop the alternative energy technologies from continuing to proliferate relatively unimpeded; however, if we fight hard and persistently, we may be able to reduce that to just five years, effectively halving the time we have to deal with the monkey-wrenching that hinders the prospects for all of us to make a substantial profit and supply the world with its energy needs.”

“Yeah, of course, that’s the bottom line.  So, what you’re telling me is that this group with no name is pragmatic and opportunistic about the future of energy and its potential to make money sooner rather than later, and that … if this helps more people than before, it’s a coincidence … or something like that?”

“Yes, something like that.  We realise that sustainable development is only achievable through innovation and change, and that this is key to the possibility of continuing to see returns on investments … so there are some redeeming aspects, if you’re interested in that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, ‘redeeming,’” echoes Henry.  “I wouldn’t expect anything more, to be honest.  I mean, I can relate to that to some extent: if a billion people die, there’s a billion people you can’t sell anything to.  So, superficially, we might think we’d be better off working out how to keep them alive and provide them with growing and continuing purchasing power, etcetera.  But there’s a limit somewhere: there’s a point at which you’d be better off letting a billion die — thinning things out a bit — and focusing more intently on those that remain.  It all depends on the capacity for development and growth within the world system and a particular time frame.  You may be able to make more money by focusing on fewer people … the rest are just casualties.”

Abdul is taken aback by Henry’s blunt elaboration.  “So what are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that being interested in investing in ‘sustainable development transition technologies’ doesn’t make someone a humanitarian, and that, importantly, you and I could draw the line at a very different point in the sand, which changes the size of the death toll dramatically … and so on and so forth.”

“I see.  I’m sure you’re right.  Look, let’s be frank…  What I think you’re getting at is that you’ll be able to garner growing and continuing support over the long-term to the extent that what you do is concordant with investment and growth interests within these dynamics you’re referring to…  It does all depend, of course.”

“Yeah, I get it,” says Henry sharply.  “I just didn’t want you to think I thought you were representing something you weren’t.  What I really want to know is what kind of support can be ‘garnered’ in the short-term from you, then?  Because what I need is something immediate that’s grandly effective in a variety of arenas.”

“Mm … I’m unable to tell you about the details of how our support will be provided as such; in fact, you don’t really need to know as what you’ll find is that paths will open up, and it will become obvious what you need to do.  What I mean is that various opportunities will start to emerge and accelerate in your favour.  You will be contacted from time to time by a representative such as myself to discuss issues and concerns, and you’ll be provided substantial financial support in areas of promise.  You’ll also be introduced to politicians and organisations that can provide further assistance…  That’s the playing field, as it were.”

“So, this group with no name you represent is going to be an invisible hand that steers the ship?”

“No, I wouldn’t put it that way.  It’s more like providing clear waters for sailing.”

Henry smiles doubtfully at the contrast.  “Whether this works out for my interests and the interests of my company and the industry is another thing, though.”

“Of course.  All alliances are conditional…  You’ve certainly been beaten about the head with that recently.  I wouldn’t insult you by denying it.”

Henry looks out the window and considers the seriousness of this for a moment.  “I can’t give any guarantee that I’ll be supportive of the decisions that are made in such an aloof manner.  I mean, the notion of support that you’re alluding to here is kind of nebulous, and could well turn ugly.”

“Our intentions are to facilitate growth and development.  To the extent that we’re both interested in that, we shouldn’t have too many problems.  The best we can do is to communicate clearly and make sure we’re all on the same page as we go.”

Henry stays silent for a moment, scanning the cityscape before him while deciding on his course.  “Okay, well, we’re just going to have to wait and see.  There’s a lot of work to do, and a lot of politics to get done.  I’d just like to see a few things happen as soon as possible … as a kind of proof.  Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Agreed.  This is essentially why we’re here — to get the ball rolling now, so to speak.”  Abdul glances over at the bar.  “Would you like a drink?  I apologise for being so rude and neglecting to offer sooner.”

“Certainly.  Anything strong will be fine,” Henry says with apparent indifference, preferring to see what’s handed to him.

Abdul nods at Omar, who begins walking towards the bar to prepare Henry a whiskey on ice, his favourite.

Henry watches the process and refocuses on business.  “We need to tee up some heavy-hitting meetings over the next few days to make the best use of the time we have left.”

“Of course.  I’ve already made some arrangements, actually.  Tomorrow morning, we have a meeting scheduled with the Prime Minister, and then, in the evening, there’s an informal gathering with several European and African heads of state or their representatives, as the case may be.”

Henry smiles.  “Sounds good…  It’s about time.  It’ll be nice to see if they’ve changed their tune.”

“I’m pretty sure they have,” grins Abdul.  He then adds reassuringly, “Things will start moving faster for everyone from here on in.  I can guarantee it.”

7:15 a.m.

Henry again sits at the bar in the hotel’s lounge deep in thought about his two-hour-long conversation with Abdul, which meandered through a range of topics, including politics, economics, technical issues in the energy sector, and, of course, speculations about the future.  He methodically takes the last sip of his coffee, places the cup back on its saucer, and heads towards the men’s room.

Three minutes later

He splashes water on his face, leans on the sink, and takes a good look at the lines accumulating on his face and the tiredness that’s evident from his lack of sleep not just from the previous night or the past few days at the conference but since the crisis began; his head has been filled with so much competing content that it has been hard for him to relax even when exhausted after being up working solidly for over twenty hours.  He knows this can’t last forever and that, at some point soon, he may collapse and become bedridden with the flu or something worse if he doesn’t make some significant changes. 
I’m gonna have to take some anti-fatigue pills and … I should consult a physician.

The quiet hum of the hand dryer continues for a moment as the only other person present passes behind him and exits.  Henry splashes his face once more and wipes some water through his short, graying hair.  He notices a shadow in his periphery moving swiftly towards him.  Reacting immediately, he recoils and steps back; a sharp, plastic blade swings past and just misses his cheek, then impacts hard against the mirror.  Henry sends his left fist racing towards the assailant’s head.  The shock from the blow sends the man back against the neighbouring sink; the blade flings out of his hand as he tries to brace himself.  Henry repositions his footing and then jabs hard with his right fist at his attacker’s nose.  Broken and issuing sharp pain, the man grabs it tightly; blood flows rapidly around his hands and down his chin.  He attempts to regain composure, humiliated by his ineffectiveness and the unexpected turn of events for a job that should have been perfunctory.  Grabbing his victim’s hair, Henry pulls his bloody hand away from his nose and smashes his teeth up against the sink, then punches the side of his jaw, making it fracture with a dull crack.  Henry stands back and observes the scene for a moment while his victim spits out blood and broken teeth onto the titled floor; then, despite the intensity of the pain and his unlikely prospects, he gets himself to his feet and lunges forward in a final attempt to gain the upper hand.  Henry slips him into a headlock and forces him low to the floor and into submission on his knees while tightening his grip around his neck, acutely restricting his air intake.  Henry leans down towards his ear and asks in a controlled yet livid tone, “Do you know who the hell I am?”

Not quite knowing what to say or whether the answer could save him or not, and finding it hard to focus on anything else except his excruciating pain and need for oxygen, the poor wretch hesitates for a moment.  His head is shaken vigorously in demand of an answer — his shoes scratch harshly around on the floor, causing his torso and legs to writhe about wildly.  Then, the grip around his neck is loosened slightly, giving him an opportunity to speak, which he compliantly takes.  “You-you’re … you’re Henry Clay.”

“No … I’m Henry
Thirty-Eight
.”  Henry abruptly tightens his grip until his victim falls unconscious just seconds later; he then allows him to fall limply to the floor while glancing at the door and lunging across to grab the blade lying by a cubicle.  He proceeds to send it deep into the back of the man’s neck, directing it up towards and through the brainstem.  He turns away from the pooling blood, moves swiftly towards the door of the exit, and stands firmly up against it.  He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the phone provided to him by Abdul and orders it to give him a call. 

After three rings, Abdul Answers, “Good Morning, Henry.  You’re up ni—”

“I’m in the men’s on the first … the
ground
floor.  I need assistance with one body, a lot of blood, a change of clothes, and a clean-up operation … in more ways than one.  Do you think you can handle that?  Is that within your capabilities?”

“Oh, I see…  Just stay there.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I can tell you.”

Twenty minutes later

Standing in his suite on the 10
^th
floor and wearing a clean suit, Henry looks out of the living room windows.  Abdul comes up and stands by his side after pocketing his phone.  “We’re obviously going to have to be more careful with you.  I’ve arranged a security detail for the rest of your stay.”

Henry considers how things were dealt with so cleanly and efficiently, and wonders about all the work and connections involved in keeping such an incident hidden and contained.  “So that’s it, then?  We can just put this morning’s events behind us?”

“Essentially.  The main thing is that you’re not implicated and there’s no body, etcetera.  Whoever organised it, will know, but, then … we sent them a message, didn’t we?”

“That we did.”

“You’re no longer an easy target, Henry … not least of all because of how you handled yourself in there, by the way.”

“I have my moments.”

“Let’s just work towards making their underestimation of you more pervasive, shall we?”

“That’s my intention, exactly.”  Although satisfied with the results of his little opportunistic experiment, Henry still feels uneasy about the background nature of his new-found support and knows that he’ll never really be comfortable with so many unanswered questions surrounding its delivery.  All he really knows is that he needs to be pragmatic and political about getting past the series of hurdles that are before him, lest they destroy him and the prospects of his business … and all that’s implicated beyond that.