A Little Farther West

By David Wrigley

Lowell and his friends have stumbled onto frighteningly advanced technology.  Returning it to the shadowy organization that wants it would be unconscionable, but keeping it would be dangerous.  How far will they have to go to escape the reach of their pursuers?

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Wrigley
• Release date: Feb 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224116300

Book preview

Prologue

Large penthouse offices decorated with paintings and sculptures are not uncommon among the rich and powerful, but almost none of them, as in this instance, are windowless.  Precisely on time, a sharp rap on the heavy wood door alerted Alden H. Livingston that his morning report was ready for his attention.  He pressed a button under the lip of his huge desk that activated a servo in his office door lock. A slight buzzing sound signaled that the door was temporarily unlocked allowing his assistant to enter.  A standard folder and several newspapers were placed on his desk by his only trusted employee, Vasco Geraint, who wrinkled his nose slightly upon entering the stale air of the office.  In Livingstons’s world, ‘trusted’ meant someone who had been completely compromised not only for employment with any other organization, but even freedom in the outside world. He had no choice but to remain under the protective umbrella of the organization.  He would obey any order, carry out any task, and remain absolutely silent under any circumstance.  There were several others in the organization on their way up that ladder - with some failing their test and being quietly demoted or brutally imprisoned on pre-loaded unrelated criminal charges - but Vasco was the latest in a short line of right-hand men trusted to carry out various sensitive tasks.  Such was the case this morning.

The nondescript manila folder detailed the status of various projects, each located in a state containing the appropriate materials, whether that be human talent, legal allowances, or other resources needed to accomplish their individual goals.  Each pursuing a small part of a larger endeavor wherein he alone knew the ultimate purpose; The only one who possessed the box with the picture of what the puzzle pieces are intended to create.  Compartmentalization was the technical term for it.  Most had status reports that Livingston regarded as acceptable, but the sub-heading ‘Anonymity’ was to be the focus of this morning’s discussion.  There was a persistent problem with a particular independent journalist who was getting too close to discovering key elements, primarily personnel, of the organization and this had to be dealt with.  Livingston mused that it’s ironic that most Millionaires, Billionaires, Celebrities - we know the type - do everything in their power to be recognized, to get on magazine covers, to be photographed exiting exclusive restaurants in their carefully crafted casual clothes with the right, or wrong, person on their arm to enhance their public presence.  The real power players know that anonymity is the key to true power.  Most of them realize too late that they have only carefully crafted a prison for themselves, that the public’s appetite for the minutest detail of their lives can never be satiated.  What brand of shoes do they wear? what responsibly sourced foods from the grocery store do they purchase? every sordid detail of their personal private life under scrutiny and debate as to what they have done right or wrong.  And bite by salacious bite when their lives have been digested and expelled, and their public has lost the taste for them; They are good for nothing but mockery and derision by ‘WHERE ARE THEY NOW?’ articles or unflattering mugshots. 

No, the capstone of this pyramid has always been anonymity.  Let others take the credit or blame for success or failure and let them be discarded when no longer of use.  Any success only leading to greater expectation and eventually to be cast into the same pit as those that fail from the start.  The true power lies with those of us directing the actions of Fortune 500 CEO’s and celebrities through the careful manipulation of smaller cogs in the immense machine of the world.

Do you play chess Mr. Geraint? asked Livingston reclining into his high-backed leather office chair as he absorbed the information relayed to him from the folder.

Mr. Livingston often preceded strategy directives with the question ‘do you play chess?’ so Geraint spoke without much thought Ah, no sir.  Then added an anecdote in his thick Spaniard accent I played a bit as a young boy, but my aggressive attacks, you see, they always left me vulnerable to traps.

Livingston went on as if Vasco had said nothing at all, his answer did not matter.   People often discount the importance of pawns, so limited in their movements, he waved his hand dismissively, but that is where the game is won or lost Geraint, with the pawns.  He paused, looking up at his subordinate, making eye contact for several seconds so the message was made clear: this is important.  This pawn of our enemy must be removed from the board.  The tone of his voice progressively went up an octave and a slight rasp developed despite a visible effort to remain placid.  As you know, secrecy is absolutely necessary to the success of our various endeavors and this rogue, self-appointed, so-called independent, muckraker, thinks he can expose us for a few clicks on his pathetic little website.  He paused to reset the emotions of anger and disgust welling up inside him, then continued; Make it happen under detestable circumstances, so that not only shall his passing be ignored, but all past works cast in doubt as well.

We have connections in the social media companies he uses. They shall insert posts in his history, yes?  And have a... procession of replies to make them seem authentic. It shall be airtight sir. Geraint responded, but he could tell by Livingstons growing inattention to his response that he didn’t care for any of the details, only that it gets done. Perhaps make others unwilling to pick up the torch as well, sir? he suggested with his eyebrows raised and cocking his head to one side.

Yes, use the pawns. Livingston answered dismissively as he pulled his chair under his desk and lowered his head to begin work on the rest of the contents of the folder, beginning to forget that anyone was still in his office.  We may make a chess player of you yet Mr. Geraint.

Chapter 1

The strange theory of the multiverse describes an infinite number of parallel dimensions wherein every possible variation of people, things and conditions exist... somewhere.  Were this the case, there must be millions of universes where something meaningful and hopeful was happening to his counterpart, because in this one, Lowell Tyler was driving home from work in such a state of melancholy despair, the slightest degree of dimensional deflection would have to be paradise.  It had been a long day, and Lowell’s car wasn’t new enough to have automatic lane sensors or adaptive cruise control, so he had to stay alert enough to maintain control of his used commuter car.  His Uncle had recommended he buy something sensible like this a year ago when he started serious employment, but on days like this, he began to second guess taking that advice.  So, to keep alert, he half listened to the same set of tragic commercials on the radio he had heard that morning on the drive in.

One listed all the very serious possible side effects of a drug that was intended to... what was the illness it was intended to cure? By the end of the long list, he had forgotten.  Another one was looking for victims in a class action lawsuit against yet another company that had gotten themselves into hot water, and then the same lawsuit commercial played again.  The computer running the station must have duplicated the file, or maybe they just didn’t have enough ads to run in the allotted break between songs.  It was getting more and more obvious that there just weren’t as many small businesses anymore to buy commercials competing for our increasingly worthless dollars.  A reality bolstered by the row upon row of vacant strip malls along the highway looking for tenants, but mostly just providing real estate for the communities of run-down RV’s and homeless encampments.  Who could compete these days with the mega stores’ fraction of a percent profit margins or the online Goliaths with next day free shipping.  Not that anyone could afford to even start a business these days with the interest rates for borrowing money so high.

He was also informed by the radio that although there were protests in the city again about the latest outrage, there were no arsons reported in his area, so extra delays in his commute were not expected.  The severity and extent of the damage was always downplayed in an attempt to keep everyone calm, but driving past entire blocks of burned-out buildings, and the lingering smell of charred plastic showed the truth.  Several more obvious lies were told to him during the bottom of the hour newsbreak to placate fears and direct the attention of the general public, if you found yourself in that category of people.  He wondered to himself why people would tolerate this slide show of decline proceeding before their very eyes in their own communities.  It had happened so gradually, like not seeing your own face aging in the mirror each day, he assumed that everyone had just gotten used to it, including himself, he realized.  But how would you be able to detect it, he mused?  Places in Japan have tsunami stones marking the highest point a wave had reached in the past so you wouldn’t be foolish enough to build things lower than that, but they do build lower than those stones, so maybe nothing would work as a warning anymore.

Arriving home, Lowell drove past Ivy’s RV down the long driveway leading to the backyard of his Uncle Stanic’s house in the somewhat remote Victorville, California suburbs.  Shutting off his car, he realized that he had gone the speed limit, and stopped at all the appropriate stop lights, but didn’t remember having done it.  It seemed that it was one of those days where you just run on autopilot.  Ivy Wilkinson was a childhood friend who had inherited all her parents’ possessions when they passed away last year but had to sell the home to pay for medical bills, and then inheritance taxes.  She had managed, with some creative accounting, to hold onto their family RV that still held many fond memories of road trip family vacations.  She didn’t have any other siblings, so Uncle Stanic had offered to let her park in the side yard to be close to her friends and still maintain a sense of independence.  It seemed that every other house these days had an RV parked in front of it, so it wasn’t that unusual a sight.  Skyrocketing inflation meant that many people couldn’t afford to leave home, and some that had made the attempt found that employment wasn’t steady enough to maintain a household on their own, and so had migrated back to the nest in one way or another.  He couldn’t tell if Ivy was home yet as she always parked her Scooter in the garage, but it didn’t matter either way, they usually didn’t see her until dinner.

Lowell shut off the car’s engine and sat there for a moment mentally transitioning from his work mindset of ignoring everyone and keeping his head down, to a more open, interested member of an actual community.  Being a tragically introverted person, he was very reluctant to draw attention to himself, even if it meant not getting desperately needed help for what he thought was a hopeless situation.  Leaving the car, making sure to gather up anything visible through the windows, he locked the door against an easy theft and walked through the fragrant backyard garden to the house.  They had all helped out with the garden as a defense against the relentless food price increases and a general barricade to ward off the artificial world.  Normally the water required to keep a garden this size growing in this climate would be cost prohibitive, but his friend and roommate Theo had rigged a grey water filtration system to reclaim sink and shower water for irrigation.  The garden served multiple purposes as his Uncle often informed them; to remind us all of where food actually comes from and how much work is needed to provide it, and to lend some peace and quiet observing how things are intended to work in nature.  Watching bees happily go about their business, noting each plants strategy for survival and doing the daily small maintenance tasks created an intended, purposeful oasis from the chaos of the outside world.  Uncle Stanic was right, pausing to appreciate nature allowed him to set his pack of troubles down, even if only for the evening to be picked up again the next morning, and recalibrate his mind to more important matters.

He peered into the house through the back-door window to see if he would startle anyone by his sudden approach, then, using his keys, unlocked the door and entered announcing his presence by calling out for his Uncle, Stanic, it’s me!.  Although he always thought ‘Uncle’ in his head, Stanic had insisted that he be called by his first name.  Stanic Novakovic was his Mother’s brother, an immigrant from Estonia when he was a teenager, and had been almost a second father to him since Lowell’s parents passing ten years ago.  A familiar voice answered from somewhere upstairs Lowell, is that you? be down in a minute.  Lowell busied himself sorting through the junk mail on the counter a moment until Stanic slowly descended the stairs holding an open book in front of his face.  As he approached the kitchen counter, he lowered the book, moved a bookmark to the open page and closed it with a slight thud and dropped it onto the counter with an even louder thud.

So, he said rather bluntly, Are you going to tell me what’s going on?

Lowell began sorting through the mail on the counter robotically, not even noticing when he had gone full circle and was looking at the same envelope again as he stumbled evasively.  What are you talking about?  What’s going on?

Stanic softened his tone and explained, Lowell, I’ve known you most of your life.  And in the last, what has it been, ten years?  I’ve seen you in this house nearly every day.  I know when something’s bothering you.  He paused a moment noting that Lowell had put down the stack of mail.  "You’ve been struggling with, something, ever since you got that job at that... He struggled for a moment searching for a word to describe something that had never been identified. ...facility that you work for that you can’t talk about."

Lowell couldn’t quite look him in the eye yet.  It’s not a comfortable feeling to realize that you had just been read as easily as that book lying there on the counter.  The Large type of the title ‘Hard Boiled Wonderland’ was discernable from his angle.  He nudged the book and inch or two away from him with his thumb with contempt, or was it comradeship? ‘Well book, we’re in this together’, he thought, ‘might as well fess up, or he’ll just turn another page himself’.  It is.  I mean there is something.  I can’t talk about it.  I’ve heard things about people who talk.

Stanic interrupted him with an upheld hand.  Wait, I didn’t mean to ambush you.  You collect your thoughts, and we’ll discuss it at dinner.  Ivy is already home and when Theo arrives, we’ll talk.  Then he picked up his book and placed a firm hand on Lowell’s shoulder in a reassuring ‘you’re doing the right thing’ kind of grip, and walked away to the front room where there was a comfortable sofa and some good Summer evening reading light by the window.

Lowell let out a deep breath, thankful that he didn’t have to spill his thoughts right then and there, but the tension began to build again at the prospect of having to disclose everything he had been thinking about the last few months.  And to his two closest friends as well.  It was no use arguing the point with Stanic or trying to put it off for another time, it was a sort of Schrödinger’s discussion at this point, it was going to happen, it just hadn’t happened yet.

It was Lowell’s turn to cook and that meant spaghetti night, which was fortunate as it gave him something to do instead of just pacing the floor thinking too much about something that was, after all, very simple: He knew too much.  Knowledge can be a burden when it concerns something you have no control over, and that was the nature of his dilemma.  How do you organize your thoughts without raving like a lunatic the moment the leash is dropped and your mind is free to run wild?  Sort of like this dinner prep, he concluded, one ingredient at a time.  First things first, he thought as he saw Theo’s car pulling up to the front of the house.  He put a pot of water on the stove to boil and walked out to meet him before he came into the house. 

Theo McDonald had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.  How far back did vivid memories of childhood go back?  Four or Five years old?  There were probably events he remembered before that... maybe, but there was a structure to grades in school, so it was easier to categorize memories from that time in your mind.  Theo had been his recess pal in Kindergarten, and contrary to most school friendships, it had continued beyond the convenience of being friends with whoever was in closest proximity to you at the time.  Theo came from a troubled home.  He had no Father growing up, and even his Mother had... difficulties with life.  In fact, as far as Lowell knew, Theo hadn’t even spoken to his Mom in over two years.  They had their ups and downs as all friendships do, but had developed similar interests in comic books, dungeons and dragons games and geeky literature growing up and their friendship had been strengthened as a result rather than strained to any kind of breaking point.  Now they were in close proximity by choice as Theo was renting a room from Uncle Stanic, expanding their impromptu family to four. 

Lowell called out from the front porch before Theo could close the door of his hatchback car, Hold up Theo, but as he jogged over to talk with him, Theo had a rant chambered and had already pulled the trigger.

MY JOKES JUST DON’T LAND WITH THIS STUPID MASK ON!  He blurted out loudly, shaking the offending piece of material in his hand before throwing it onto the dashboard.  Between the mask and the sunglasses, I come off like the Unabomber pitching random insults to everyone I deliver stuff to.  He continued, realizing the initial outburst needed explanation beyond that fact that he did indeed deliver random items for a living.  "Sarcasm is an art form, right? And for correct interpretation, this word was elongated as if he were speaking to a grade schooler, you have to be able to see the face.  It’s all in the expressions, man!  He paused, seeing Lowell’s expression telling him this was going nowhere and something more important was about to happen.  He trailed off, I just hate these masks, man."

I know, me too. Lowell agreed, We have to wear them sometimes in the clean rooms at work, so I get it.  Not as much sarcasm used at work though, so we fare better than you.  Lowell paused in his conversation as both he and Theo realized he had just disclosed something about his work for the first time.  It occurred to him that he really was ready to get ‘it’ off his chest and was actually looking forward to being unburdened.  Family really does lighten the load. Dinner is going to ready soon, you should come in the house now. He said taking Theos phone out of his shirt pocket for him with two fingers as if it were a dead rat, placing it in the console of the car, shutting the lid, and holding a finger up to his lips.

Okay... Theo ventured growing concerned, but only temporarily as he transitioned to a halting tone that sounded like he knew he was being recorded, let’s go into the house then.

I’ll be there in a minute, I’m gonna get Ivy too. Was all he said.  Not continuing and mimicking his joking speech pattern probably left Theo a little confused, but he needed to signal that it was somewhat serious and to leave the jokes outside.

Lowell walked up to Ivy’s RV and knocked on the door.  It was odd that he still felt a bit of nervousness whenever he approached Ivy, like he was working up the courage to ask her out to prom every time.  A moment later a smiling face appeared in the window of the door.  Smart of her to check who it was before just opening the door.  She swung the door out and asked, What’s up Lowell?

Both He and Theo had a crush on Ivy since they were little boys, I mean who wouldn’t, she’s pretty, kind, intelligent, and puts up with a lot of the foolishness that two mid-twenties single guys invent for their entertainment, but over all the years they had known each other, it was pretty clear that they had both been comfortably entombed in the friend zone.  Which isn’t a terrible place to be, you still get to spend time with someone you love, and hope springs eternal for fools that a change in relationship status was still possible.  Dinner will be ready in a few minutes if you would like to join us, Stanic insisted that they always invite Ivy to join them for dinner even though it was expected and normal that she be there.  ‘Always teaching us barbarians how to treat a lady’ he thought to himself.  Stanic has convinced me to talk about something that’s been bothering me for a while and food is a good prop to hide discomfort.

It’s about time, she said with a faked serious look and folded her arms emphatically.  But her face betrayed her with a slight smile, then changed to a genuine look of concern and continued, We’ve been worried about you for a while now. Well, Stanic and I have been worried, Theo is an insensitive lout.

Lowell looked down at his shoes and lightly kicked at the metal stair feeling like he had let his friends down by being this obviously depressed and bringing them down with him, even if just a little. There’s a lot to explain, and it’s complicated. He paused a bit to separate that statement from the next. I know you probably won’t bring your phone in, but in case you were going to, don’t.  If that makes sense.  They listen all the time and certain keywords could trigger us getting put on a list or two.

This brought a new level of concern to Ivy’s face, and she knew Lowell could see it. Okay. Was all she answered tentatively, not wanting to clutter up the air with too many words as things seemed to be more serious than she thought.  Lowell turned to leave for the house and Ivy stood there for a moment looking back suspiciously at her phone on the table as if it might jump up and bite her at any moment.  A sudden sense of embarrassment crept into her thoughts that something she had carried with her everywhere and was useful in so many ways might at the same time betray her.  As she stepped down the stair and prepared to close the door, she paused, took off her smart watch and tossed it onto the couch, just in case, closed the door and followed Lowell’s path to the front of the house.

It appeared that nobody wanted to wait for dinner to actually start to hear what Lowell had to say, as they had all gathered around the counter while he started to cook dinner.  It also appeared that nobody wanted to help either, so Lowell put them to work in other ways.  He turned the oven on to ‘warm’ and signaled for Ivy to fetch the foil covered bread to place inside and asked Theo; would you please unplug the router, the TV, and um, take the batteries out of that remote that has the microphone in it, and... nobody has phones in the room, right? They didn’t have any other high-tech voice command items in the house, so his list ended.  Stanic and Ivy looked on as Theo carried out his task, Ivy with the same look of suspicion she had cast on her phone, Stanic nodding slightly, concerned about the magnitude of what Lowell was involved in.

The water in the large pot transitioned from simmering to the first ripples of boiling, and Lowell slid the rigid spaghetti noodles from their package into the pot I work at a facility, called ‘Spherepoint’.  I know, He said nodding his head, "It sounds very pretentious.  We all know it’s just a front for something else, but anyway... we do what would be considered top secret stuff if it were any kind of military or government organization".

Theo interrupted as he snapped off a bit of pasta and crunched it loudly does the government or military know they exist?

Well, yes and no Lowell waffled a bit, All the security is private, and it’s privately owned as far as I can tell, but we do see a General or two come through on a ‘dog and pony show’ every once in a while, so I figure they at least cooperate to keep things off the radar of the general public.  He knew he was speculating now and didn’t want to go too far afield from what he actually knew, so he left it at that.

He plopped the, what was now expensive, ground beef mixed with oats and onions to stretch the portions, onto the heated pan with a violent sizzle. "We do tests on things that seem like they are from the future.  Or what should be our future, but in the present.  That didn’t make any sense, he knew from the odd looks he was receiving from everyone so he just gave examples; Batteries that could power an entire house for a week, solar panels the size of a TV screen that can run an electric car indefinitely, even pull a good charge on a cloudy day, a... gravity plate, I think is the closest I can call it, that makes things weightless, or pull you to up to it if you are under it.  He knew that was a lot to digest in one sentence, but he felt better having gotten it all out in one breath.  And those are just the big things."

Theo spoke up immediately and Lowell could see the inventor’s wheels turning in his head What about the little things?

Stanic turned an irritated face to Theo for interrupting him again so soon, and Ivy shot him a look of incredulity.  As if she couldn’t believe he could recover from that information fast enough to process a question; She was dumbfounded.

A chemical white light that lasts ten years, I’ve heard about some kind of graphene material breakthrough, the mythical 100 miles per gallon car carburetor you’ve probably heard about since the 70’s, um, they apparently figured out the perpetual motion thing long ago, they have that there.  Fusion power plant, He added a short explanation seeing the confusion on some faces, The sun is a fusion reaction, produces more energy than you put in, they’ve had that for a while.  I guess you’ve started hearing about things like that in the news now. Probably a lot more stuff that I don’t know about, but there you go.  Lowell concluded and went back to stirring the hamburger like he had just dictated a shopping list for the grocery store.

Ivy finally was able to speak, You’ve seen all that? she asked with a perplexed look on her face.

Oh, no. Lowell felt their questions burning into him and began to feel uncomfortable. I’ve seen a few of them, but only heard stories or have seen technical papers on the others.  They try to keep us as compartmentalized as possible so none of us knows too much about the place as a whole.  He felt like a dam had finally burst and wanted to get as much as possible out before questions started to derail his train of thought. "We all signed pretty serious non-disclosure agreements when we started work there, and we did some kind of personality test, and they do random polygraphs and drug tests, you name it.  Very high security to keep things under wraps, like guys with machine guns security. He walked across the kitchen to get seasoning for the ground beef aware of the eyes following him. But since we aren’t allowed to talk to anyone outside the facility, some people talk to each other inside the facility.  Plus, people from concluded projects are reassigned to new areas and word just gets around."  He shook the contents of the jar into the quickly browning meat and set it aside to be put away later.

Theo seemed to be processing things best out of the group and wanted a missing puzzle piece Do they invent all these things and just keep them hidden?

I don’t think so, Lowell ventured, we get these things already completed and just run tests on their capabilities.  If I had to guess, I would say they monitor for breakthroughs around the world and make them an offer they can’t refuse, or just take them.  He concluded with an ominous tone.

Stanic hadn’t said a word yet, and that told Lowell that it was going to be a late night when he finally did.  Theo had looked like he wanted to ask more, but had been restrained by Stanic periodically elbowing him as a way to say, ‘not yet, let him finish’.  Ivy just stared at him in disbelief.

So, the ‘what’ had been answered, now was the time for ‘why’, and Lowell gave a nod to Stanic as permission to release Theo from his restraints.

Theo didn’t waste any time; I think I get why this place would want to keep all that secret, but-

Now it was Ivy’s turn to interrupt I don’t!  What gives them the right to keep all these things secret like this?  She waved her hands in the air in front of her in exacerbation as she spoke These people are always screaming about fossil fuels and pollution and they have all this stuff ready to go? She stopped, frustrated that the world had suddenly turned upside down, Are they insane!?

Lowell looked over to Theo and waved him through as if to say ‘the floor is yours’, so Theo excitedly explained, Oil companies make Billions of dollars every year selling energy, same for electricity providers, gas companies, the list goes on.  If even a few of these technologies that Lowell is talking about were available, they’d be out of business.  He held a finger up to count ‘one’, then raised another with each new point as he said; Imagine you living in your house -pardon me- RV, you make a one-time purchase of a small solar panel like Lowell is talking about, and maybe one of these new batteries, which might be expensive up front, but after that, your energy is basically free.  No ongoing monthly bills.  You don’t even have to live near a power or gas line, just dig a well and you could live anywhere. These gravity things would make highways and freeways obsolete; people make lots of money building and maintaining all of that, not to mention all the side industries that provide support, it would throw the whole supply chain into the trash to start over.  The billions they spend getting things into orbit would be cheap-as-free, it just goes on and on, they would never allow that.  He shook his head in disappointment At least not all at once. And don’t get me started on how much money gets piped through all levels of government in taxes to provide the infrastructure for all this stuff.

All about money.  Ivy looked down sadly.

Power.  Stanic corrected.  Money is it’s easiest path, but power is what they seek.  Having emigrated from Estonia, seeing first-hand the behavior of their neighbor, Russia, nobody disputed his analysis.

You mentioned they have fusion figured out, is that one of the technologies they are leaking out slowly? Theo asked, thinking he had all this organized in his head. Will the other things come out in a few years, one at a time?

Lowell shook his head slowly with a pained look on his face while opening a jar of spaghetti sauce I don’t think so.  I don’t see any evidence of anything being leaked in order to help society out. I think the people developing fusion in the public eye are just doing the work and figuring it out for themselves. Some of these technologies, they’ve had for decades and not even a whisper of them has gotten out.  He began stirring the now softening pasta noodles as he explained And these people that run the show don’t seem like the sort that have mankind’s best interest in mind.

What do you mean? Asked Ivy with an attitude of growing concern.  She was beginning to scratch the surface of the level of selfishness and, no other word for it, evil it would take to hoard such knowledge knowing the incredible benefits they could have for the world, and she didn’t like it.

Well, that’s the source of my depression. Lowell explained as he poured the sauce into the pan with the browned hamburger.  At this Stanic nodded his head again and paid particular attention; this is what he had wanted to get at all along, he didn’t care much about the technologies.  "2001, a space odyssey, that movie; space stations with commercial flights to and from. Blade Runner was set in 2019; flying cars, colonies on other planets... George Jetson’s birthday was in 2022.  Modern movies are smart enough now to put their futuristic plots Hundreds, Thousands of years in the future, but there used to be an optimism through the Seventies about the trajectory of humanity.  We should have been in that future by now, but we’re not.  Because of places like the one I work for.  He turned to his friends and continued and it’s not just about what I might be doing now if we had the future we should have had...  Do you remember that construction accident last month, where the crane cable broke, and took out that whole crowd of people?  He trailed off for a moment remembering the tragedy they all saw on the news over and over again.  Thanks in large part to the fact that it was recorded, the video was played on a loop while they commented on the death toll, the investigation, and the payout by the company to avoid jail time for the obvious safety oversights.  Do you think we would still be using giant cranes like that if they had the option of a simple gravity sled to bring things to the top of a skyscraper? And that’s just the tip of the iceberg of the misery these things could alleviate He felt the need to further excuse his mood, even though it may not have been necessary.  At this point he felt like they were on his team and understood, or might even feel the same themselves. It’s like there’s a massive famine going on where people are starving to death, and I work in a chef’s kitchen where they use fresh ingredients for a feast every day for themselves and throw everything else in the trash."

Ivy continued his thought in sympathy,