Page 21 of The Deception: Hercules Valentine and I
He drops his arms out of the fold and takes a nervous glance at Hercules. “You have to ask me that to answer my question?”
“Well, yeah, because if you want to produce flying cars, then you need to know where they fit within the marketplace. What's their value? Why do we as consumers need them? Or even better, why do we as human beings need them?” I'm feeling pretty proud of myself because those are the sorts of questions my grandfather would have asked.
Anticipation settles in the air. Fortunately, everyone has been drawn into the back-and-forth between me and Orion.
“Just drive below Sixtieth, and you'll have the answer to your question.”
“So, easing or eliminating traffic, then,” I say, writing on my view pad.
Everyone except Hercules looks at the words I’ve written on the big screen. Hercules’s focus stays on me, which makes me nervous. The longer he looks at me, the closer he’ll get to figuring out who I am, so I purposely angle my back to him so he can’t study my face.
“What else?” I ask.
“Can I get on this?” Harv asks with a raised finger.
“Sure,” I say.
“A flying car could get us where we need to go faster,” he says.
“Could be a lot cleaner too,” Rina adds. “Although electric cars are quite clean.”
“Yeah, but they get stuck in traffic,” Rob says.
“I think the primary necessity is to avoid traffic,” I say. “So, we have our compression technology. Our biggest challenge would be how to use our technology to accomplish avoiding traffic. You might get a flying car out of it, or you might get something else. If we let what’s possible guide us, we’ll never know what we’ll discover, but we will discover something.”
Arms folded again, Orion studies what I’ve written on the screen.
“Flying-car crashes are what we’ll discover,” Mason remarks. “Orion, we’re not wasting any of our time or resources on your flying car.”
“Lark, if you were me, how would you get started?” Orion asks.
I know Max would kill me if he knew what I was about to say. But no way am I going to do a horrible job for VTI. I’m unable to give VTI anything less than my best.
“Well, first of all, I’d understand that our compression technology can exist beyond electronic devices. Take GIT, for example. Who would’ve thought a product like Climate Condition would one day replace air conditioners? Basically, if you want to make a flying car, then you speak to mechanics, engineers, physicists, and people like me. You might come up with nothing. But you might come up with the very thing that no one has been able to do until you figured it out.”
The room is so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Hercules is frowning at me. I think I may have made an enemy out of him by supporting his brother’s idea. I couldn’t stop myself from saying those things, though. Orion has the sort of out-of-the-box thinking that my grandfather would have encouraged. I think if our silly family feud with the Valentines didn’t exist and Treasure had brought him to a family gathering when Grandfather was alive, Grandfather would have liked him very much.
“All right,” Mason says with a loud handclap. “Let’s get to work on what’s able to make us money within this fiscal quarter.”
Orion walks out of the room. Hercules turns away from the empty space his brother left behind and puts his scowl on me. My heart sinks to my feet.If I did the right thing, why do I feel so horrible about it?
* * *
Hercules left shortly after Orion.Surprisingly, Mason was thankful that I finally gave Orion something concrete to think about in regard to his flying-car idea. “I think he now gets that you have to do more than make a goddamn car that flies. You gotta make traffic laws for the sky. And what happens when one of those metal flying machines drops through someone's roof? You got him thinking rationally for once.” His hand came down on my shoulder. “I'm glad you did. But the next time I say cut, you stop talking. Got it?” He squeezed lightly.
My head felt like it was bobbing as I nodded. I had indeed crossed a line. If only I could explain that this was my first real job and I didn’t quite understand the dynamics between a regular boss and employee. My brother and father allowed me to say whatever I wanted in hopes that I would happen on a lucrative idea or solve a problem. One thing was for sure—in that regard, VTI was not GIT. Max never would have kept Orion out of the room. Nor would he have so quickly shut down his flying-car idea. However, I think Mason hates Orion more than his idea. If Hercules had come up with a flying car, I’m certain Mason would have been all over it like ants on candy.
Anyway, for the rest of the day, we burned on all pistons, refining our new video game and working with every department to get the word out to consumers that something new, big, and bold was coming from VTI. And now I’m sitting at my desk, rubbing my tired eyes.
“Tonight’s my showing.” Lake plops down in the chair beside me.
My eyelids feel so heavy—I’m struggling to lift them. My activities of last night and today—plus the night before last—are all conspiring to come crashing down on me. I yawn.
The corners of her mouth turn downward, showcasing an exaggerated pout. “You’re still coming, aren’t you?”
Even though I’m wiped, I wouldn’t miss Lake’s show for the world. I muster up the best smile I can, given my current condition. “I’ll be there.”
