The small meeting room was unremarkable except for a few small details about the location. It was located in the Denver Airport, and could only be reached from the VIP club where corporate bigwigs spent a little time while their private jets refueled. The club was private, with a yearly fee of a million dollars per person. The accommodations and cuisine were five-star, but while enjoyable and included in the membership, they were simply window dressing for the club's main use, a place for highly-ranked individuals to meet in private, with no chance of being seen together or recorded. Phones and electronic devices would not work inside, and each individual was scanned on entry. The men who entered from hallways that led to their private hangars needed this assurance. Things said in these rooms had toppled and built financial empires in the past.

  "I see that you were able to use our gift of information to your advantage."

  "Yes, thank you for that, General. The small details your analysis team identified were quite useful in dealing with the City Council and the Mayor. It will be tight to get things up and running immediately, but we can do it. I've always hated letting go of assets that might be useful in the future, either material or workforce. My mother's hoarding gene, I suppose. She liked to collect small castles and politicians."

  "Good, we thought that you could do something with the information, and I'm happy to see you acting on it. Our team was aware that you hadn't shipped your surplus of electric buses to the recycler, and this was a factor in providing you with the information. There's no sense handing someone an opening if they can't take advantage of it."

  The CEO of Tesladyne, Harold Ravicks, agreed with the idea and was happy to gain the chance to kick Raxxon in the balls, but..."I'm thankful for your generosity, but I have to wonder what favor you need in return? While the veal here is excellent, I'm sure that's not why we're here."

  "A simple one, Harold. I want you to do the same thing you are doing in Chicago in twelve other large, regional cities that we've identified. Raxxon is using the same strategy elsewhere. I can give you locations, local politicians they've cut deals with, their strategies, and all the numbers, including the bribes and quid pro quo."

  "One gift becomes twelve? Is it Christmas again, already? Thank you, but what debt is Tesladyne incurring? There's always a cost, General. What do you need that I can help you with?"

  The General leaned back in his chair, happy they were quickly getting to this point. "It's simple. I want you to kick Raxxon's ass, and change the energy dynamic in North America from a dependency on their dwindling fossil fuels, and move things back to electricity and fusion-generated power. We estimate that even at 21% efficiency, the current fusion generation in North America can provide all of the power needed to keep things running. You have control of the bulk of those power plants, and I'm sure that if you were given the right incentives, you could build another dozen in key locations that would squeeze Raxxon and break their control. To help you out, we can provide certain information and the assistance of highly placed government contacts. To help with this, we've managed to secure assurances from the administrations involved that drilling in new areas will be blocked or slowed, and highly taxed. That won't last forever, so I need you to act quickly and commit to the plan. In two years, you and the consortium of lesser corporations that you have under your thumb could be in control of 92% of the energy business. I'm sure your stockholders will like that."

  "Oh, they will. So will my accountant when my yearly bonuses skyrocket. I'll take the deal. Stupid not to, no matter what the cost. So tell me what I can do for you in return? How much of a cut? Your group is always meddling in small things, but this feels larger. I assume you're moving forward with your plans and want to monetize that efficient spy network you manage."

  The General smiled like a wolf. "You're right, and you're wrong. We are moving forward, but I don't want money. I want you to take a seat at my table. Specifically, as the person in control of the North American power grid, and potentially a lot more of the energy structure throughout the world."

  Harold's eyes narrowed as he thought, greed and caution warring inside. "There are some large implications to that offer. How big is the table?"

  "Unknown at this point. It depends on who accepts and how much power we can consolidate into as few hands as possible. But fewer than 100 from the entire world, with a dozen on my executive council. One of those twelve seats can be yours. But once you commit, there's no going back, and you'll have to get your hands dirty. Very dirty in the end."

  "You know that I'm in. If I'm correct about what you're up to, I've been waiting a long time for this."

  "Good, you'll have the information today, delivered with dessert. Now, on to other things. We need the new system for running fusion plants, but I don't want to sign up with an unknown operator. Can you retro-engineer or steal this Fusion Care program from Clawmaster or whatever they are calling that little consortium these days? I don't like having an essential piece of the puzzle outside of our control."

  Harold shook his head. "Not yet. We started work on figuring it out immediately after we saw that it worked. But this is an incredibly complex piece of programming. As far as we can tell, the program can almost instantly recognize tens of thousands of configurations of the magnetic bubbles and predict the next few seconds of activity, suggesting adjustments to keep the reaction stable. If it hits something tricky, it sends an alert to Clawmaster, and a specific solution is generated in two seconds. We're working on the first, but we don't understand the second, or have any way of looking at it. They were canny with this method. They show it works, hook us on the product, but keep control and the money rolling in. It's the type of innovation that Tesladyne was built on, and I'm sure you understand how much it galls me to be paying someone else for it."

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "I'm surprised you haven't been able to steal it from them." The General saw Harold scowl, and there was a touch of anger on his face that he covered immediately.

  "Trust me, we are working on it. So far, their cyber defenses are proving better than what we can throw at them. We aren't even sure yet where the Fusion Care program originates from. For such a new company, they are incredibly secure, paranoid, and efficient. I have a number of people recovering in the psyche ward from stress, and we've lost tens of millions in advanced hardware. Frankly, it may be time to ramp up our acquisitions department. I don't like someone being better than us; you're team obviously excluded. But that is going to take time to build and then crack their security. However, I'm sure it would be no problem for your team."

  "It shouldn't. I'd hoped to keep a level of detachment from projects like that. We're already pushing the envelope, trying to get through the security on the big computer, but soon that won't matter. Things will start moving quickly once a few more pieces fall into place. I'll move some people around and make it a priority. Send me all the details on what I'm looking for."

  "Thank you. In the meantime, I'm going to pursue a different route. Everyone has a price. I'm going to find out what the price of Clawmaster is, and make them an offer."

  "Buy what you can't steal? It's always worked for you before."

  "It has. Speaking of which, we have identified a smaller company with a superior product. We've placed orders for a thousand of their Clog Eaters and Duct Drones. They increased efficiency in all of the facilities they were deployed to. I was frankly quite amazed at the sheer number of small spy devices they found as they cleaned things up. I want to acquire Williamson Plumbing before any other corporations realize what a little gem it is. They've mostly been supplying a small list of customers up until now, but once we use their products, everyone else will be lining up. They know we go for the best tech we can get. It's such a small company that it's easiest just to buy them up and expand the output."

  "In that case, I need to place an order through you. I don't care if it's to the company directly and you tack on 50%, or the same price once you buy them. Acquire the items you use in your fusion plants, but ten times as many for me. Warehouse them in any of the western states, and I'll provide transport for them."

  Harold smiled a little, "That's a very large installation. Interesting."

  "Large, yes, but not that big. I like having spare parts on hand in case of disruptions in the economy."

  "Wise. Do you foresee such disruptions happening in the next few years?"

  The General made a decision. He needed Tesladyne and all of its subsidiaries under his control, and one way to do that was by keeping them close. "Not just foresee. I can guarantee it. Change always arises from chaos, and we have some big changes in mind."

  Pete and Joe Williamson had just finished their first cups of coffee and were going over the next week's projects with their plant manager, Ed Sanderson. Things had gone from crazy busy to an entirely new level. They'd rehired any machinist or engineer in the area, and were working with four trade schools to bring in new blood. They needed programmers, robotics experts, metal workers, and all types of factory workers. Both buildings were running three shifts now to keep up, and they'd bought and refurbished two other buildings to use as warehousing for raw materials and parts. There was no need to store products. Clog Eaters and Duct Drones were shipped out as fast as they could be made.

  Their morning ritual was interrupted by a team of six lawyers, all wearing suits and shiny hard hats with the Tesladyne logo. Pete and Joe saw the limousines roll up and the doors open, disgorging the team.

  "I don't think those folks are here just to place an order." Pete had a distrust of shiny hard hats, especially when worn with ten-thousand-dollar suits and perfect smiles.

  "Nope, but we'd best listen to them. Go sit down with them and make sure they all get a cup of coffee. You can tell who's actually worked for a living by the way they drink a bad cup of coffee."

  "And what will you be doing?"

  "Oh, I'll be along. I need to test out the new surveillance drone our mystery genius supplied plans for. I'd like to have a recording of our meeting to send to them. Give me five minutes."

  "You got it. Five minutes is just enough time to tell a meaningless story about how we got started and watch them grimace as they try to sip a cup of coffee."