Inhalt

The Power Plant

POWERPLANT

by Zvi Zaks

Tuesday

Rodger K. Johnston pushed open the doors to the power plant, strode into the lobby, and sneezed. It was a convulsive sneeze, a series of explosions that reddened his face and made his eyes water. How outrageous. He was a healthy man, good-looking in spite of thinning hair and a small paunch. These sneezing fits had bothered him when the plant first opened, but then subsided, and he forgot about them. Why had they returned? This plant was one hundred percent dust free, the cleanest place he had ever seen. Cleanliness was next to Godliness, but walking past a starched, baby-faced guard, riding the elevator to the 5th floor and trudging down the long, aseptic hall to his office, he kept sneezing.

His secretary greeted him with a smile. "Good morning, Mr. Johnston."

She had a pretty face, and her generous breasts showed just enough cleavage to be interesting. The sight of her stimulated his loins, but one affair at a time offered enough challenge. Besides, her perfume made his nose itch. "Good morning, Marilyn. How’s the Devil this morning?"

"Squirming away." She laughed, but also crossed herself with quick motions. "I thought you didn’t like calling it that. You said it was superstitious."

He sighed. "Just joking. Lord knows we can use some levity." Shoulders sagging, he entered his office and walked to a window. The view below showed a boat floating downstream past parks, museums and a zoo on the other side of the river. This placid scene could decorate a postcard.

But the reality was not placid. A recent population surge had made the city an energy-hungry metropolis with brownouts and exorbitant electricity prices, not a tranquil village. Power concerns dominated local politics.

Rodger understood power and not just kilowatt-hours. As CEO, he understood persuasion, bribery, threats and how to use them all. With skill, ruthlessness, and keen enjoyment in the process, he had guided this state-of-the-art plant from inception to its current productivity.

He had birthed the first major plant powered by demons.

Thanks to Rodger's leadership, a so-called demon squirmed and converted its mass into energy for half of Des Moines. Electricity prices had fallen, and brownouts were now unheard of. The town's churches objected to 'demon power', but most of the citizens lauded Rodger's accomplishments. Rodger's goal was to head the national Department of Energy, and his successes here made the prospects bright.

These past few days, he could not hear the city's praise and felt no enjoyment in his work. His optimism had waned. Since he had started sneezing again, he thought only about the clergy's opposition. Some preachers still claimed the so-called demon was an actual infernal imp and said Rodger was a minion of the devil.

A knock on the door and a hesitant, tenor voice burst his reverie. "Am I interrupting anything, Mr. Johnston? I think it’s time for the morning update." Sam Bernstein, the chief engineer, entered the office with his assistant, Frank Southers. Sam was an elderly, stooped man who wore wrinkled pants and a flannel shirt. Frank was younger and more amiable, a bit slower, but always came to work with a crisp white shirt and a tie.

Rodger's stomach quivered at the sight of Sam, but why? He had no reason to fear the elderly man. He straightened, dwarfing his chief engineer. "You look worried. What’s wrong now?"

"Mr. Johnston, it’s the same thing I always tell you but you don’t want to hear it. I have just five years to retirement and I don’t want to jeopardize that. I know you don't want to listen, but I have to let you know..."

"Get to the point."

Sam clenched and unclenched his hands. "The point is this plant is unsafe. I need a bigger budget to ensure…"

Rodger interrupted him. "You’ve been worrying about safety ever since we went on line. This plant has run for three years without mishap. Of course it’s safe."

"You’re forgetting four near accidents when we first started, and the five more since we caught that new demon a few months ago. Just last week an ion generator failed to trigger. That could have fried everyone in the control room if one of the techs hadn't seen it in time."

"I reviewed that incident in detail. You vastly overestimate its seriousness," Rodger said. At that moment, he sneezed several times, loud, repeated explosions.

Sam leaned forward. "You’re an excellent administrator, but you don’t know this plant. You can’t even stop these sneezing fits because you don’t understand basic thermodemonics."

Rodger rubbed his nose and glowered. At that point Sam sneezed several times himself. He yanked a small pendant from under his shirt and rubbed it furiously between thumb and forefinger. Rodger stared at the silver object, a Star of David. "Since when are you religious?"

"You don’t even understand this pendant," Sam said. He blew his nose but didn’t sneeze again.

Rodger scowled. "Don’t argue with me, Sam. It’s time to inspect the control room. We’ll discuss safety

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Zvi Zaks
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.04.2013
ISBN: 978-3-7309-2441-9

Nächste Seite

Seite 1 /