Chapter Fifteen
Bakman Report released
Two days later in the glare of spotlights, Bakman walks calmly to the podium smiling for the recorders with Zee on his arm. Doctor Chondrin is speaking.
"We were commissioned by Mister Duncan Bakman to bring Meryl Runk's idea up to date. Our group has completed that project and do now formally hand the Bakman Report to Mister D. G. Bakman."
Doctor Chondrin turns with a 281 page blue-covered report in his hands as a smiling Bakman and Zee climb the three steps to the platform.
D. G. Bakman holds out his hand and accepts a blue-covered bound report. Zee stops as Bakman takes the report. Doctor Chondrin and Bakman shake hands. Both give the required smile for the recorders. After the handshake, Bakman turns to the lay the report on the podium and Doctor Chondrin retreats to sit with the rest of his group behind the podium.
After Doctor Chondrin steps away, Bakman lifts the report saying, "People of the World this report has been completed for your discussion. The question of distant solar system space travel has been talked about for a long time—for centuries. Today, we only work on space flights to Mars and back. Maybe someday in the next hundred years it will be to another more distant planet or moon in our solar system.”
A smiling Bakman pauses to look across the room. “Yet, the ultimate question in space travel is how human beings can travel from our planet in this solar system to a planet in another solar system that is light-years away. The closest star is four light-years away. At the speed our ships travel that would take years and years, maybe a generation or more to get there. How do we provide enough fuel, food, oxygen, and water for such a journey?"
For an instant Bakman pauses and lets his audience think about his questions. "Many have suggested that we would have to develop a way to grow food inside our spaceships. It is possible with sunlight to make plants grow, but what about the large void of ten or twenty or thirty years or more in the darkness between solar systems. Without adequate sunlight will our power source produce enough light and heat for plants?"
Bakman pauses again. "How do we stop calcium loss and other problems that develop in people’s bones during long periods in a spaceship? When artificial gravity failed we have had people so weakened when they land that we have had to place them on stretchers and carry them to a hospital for treatment. If we did make it to another planet in that condition will any stretcher-bearers be sitting there waiting to take us to the local hospital? No, they will not be there. Will we be so weak that after arrival at our destination that we die from lack of medical assistance?"
D. G. Bakman catches his breath and makes a sweeping glance across the audience. His look makes many of them think he is speaking directly to them.
“I am sure others can list a dozen other difficulties humans might have in space, such as a hundred and fifty years of power to produce heat, and air and water supply. Using today's knowledge how could we get to another planet in another solar system? Years ago, Meryl Runk had the idea that a spaceship could carry human egg and sperm frozen in nitrogen tanks. No food or supplies needed. All power shut off once the spacecraft achieves top speed and the only other creatures aboard the ship being mechanicals. They too would shut down. Then, the only power needed from shielded nuclear power reduced to its lowest setting is to a small planet sensor and an automatic guidance system.”
Bakman takes another pause to catch his breath. “When the sensor records a possible earth-like planet, it would adjust the course. When the ship is close enough, the mechanicals would be activated and turn full power on in the ship. The mechanicals would start a cloning-like operation to produce babies, raise, and train people born on their ship close to the planet while it is in orbit. Today, we are able to live years in orbit without major medical problems. When the humans are old enough and trained, they can take a shuttle down to the planet's surface. Now, people are on another planet in another solar system. Most of those problems we talked about do not apply to this method."
A smiling Bakman gives his conclusion. "People of the World, we will release the full text of the Bakman Report to any and all free of charge. Put in your request addressed to Emmert Barbbre in the OpDyke Building, New Dallas. Those of you in this audience may pick up your copy at the door. Thank you." D. G. Bakman holds up the Bakman Report and smiles for the recorders and polite applause.
With that gesture the lights dim to normal levels, the spotlights blink off, and the room seems almost dark as Zee steps to his side. Informationalists rush forward to ask questions for more than a half hour. As the crowd gather around only D. G. Bakman, the reluctantly commissioned team of ten scientists and engineers quietly leave the room and the OpDyke building.
For the next two weeks Bakman with yellow-blonde Zee on his arm is invited to be a guest on one Information Screen after another. However, to stop the possibility of assassination attempts Bakman’s people quickly open a studio on the fifth floor of the OpDyke Building and all Informationalist interviews are done there. The New Dallas hover shuttle terminal sets a new record number of flights in a day and in a month. Hotel rooms are fully booked city-wide for three months in advance and so were hotel rooms in nearby cities within a half day shuttle.
This happened because Harry OpDyke told all the networks, “I can’t spare D. G. Bakman enough time away from the office to chase all over the planet. You come here, use our studio free of charge, and send me the bill for your people’s transportation and lodging.”
Gradually, the rush of interview requests about the Bakman Report slows and finally ends as the opposition grows more vocal. In the middle of a growing planet-wide argument, no one seems to notice that Bakman is not involved in the discussion any longer.
However, in the uproar D. G. Duffy Bakman did make number 38 on the yearly U.N. survey list of the most respected people on the planet. Every even number floor below the 25th floor had an all day party with family members in attendance at Harry’s expense to celebrate Bakman’s listing. The next two days were paid days off to recover.
During this time of people moving around Bakman’s enemies made another try. It seemed so innocent it was almost successful. Zee, Dee, and Vee had to go down to the third floor for a monthly half hour diagnostic review. Bakman asked Breen to send two security guards up for two hours after lunch, and Breen choose Broadwell Byler and Felden Dibble.
Dibble was a part time security officer. He had developed a brain tumor and Consolidated Wire had sent him home on half pay for a year as was the minimum required by law for a worker unable to work for medical reasons. Felden Dibble took his treatments and struggled to pay his bills.
Harry heard about Dibble’s troubles, thought Felden got treated badly, and paid his medical bills because twenty-two years ago the man had work for Harry. He let Dibble work part time in the building when able. Dibble’s generous two levels higher pay rate part time from Harry equaled his past full time salary, but for Felden Dibble things changed quickly. Three days ago his doctors told Dibble the tumor was still growing and surgery was not an option.
The fatal diagnosis took away his loyalty and Dibble accepted an offer for a quick twenty thousand added to his bank account to help his wife—half-before and half-after. After verifying the first deposit of ten thousand on his ten o’clock break, Dibble took out of his locker a poison dart-armed wand and slipped it into his holster and left behind his non-lethal stun wand. His opportunity came that afternoon at 12:17 when word came that Dee, Vee, and Zee were in the elevator descending.
In the elevator after the door closed Byler reached forward to punch twenty-five. While Byler’s attention was on the panel Dibble eased out of his stun gun holster the dart-armed wand. One puff, a dart in the back of Byler’s neck, sent him leaning forward; face turned with a puzzled look at his friend Felden, and slumped to the floor.
“Sorry Broad,” was his only outward emotion to killing his friend of more than twelve years. Living with death for almost a year had greatly changed Felden that muc
h.
It looked like an easy ten thousand, at least, to leave his wife and children for only Wray and Bakman were in the office. As far as Felden knew neither was armed, and at the Security desk this morning he had learned that Harry was having one of his spells again and was spending the day in bed.
“Easy as pie,” Felden said aloud to the corpse as the elevator slowed. Felden Dibble did not expect to live to leave the building.
The elevator stopped on the twenty-fifth floor.
Wray had been reviewing a folder of sales contracts of assets sold this last quarter and checking the paper documents against his computer records. Smiling that his paper records were correct Wray stood to replace the folder and glances left to see who is in the elevator.
A shocked Wray saw a body on the elevator floor and Felden Dibble stepping out with a dart-wand in his hand. Transferring the folder to his left hand Wray leans over and presses the building emergency button as Dibble’s weapon puffs once. An emergency siren wails, a dart thumps, and Wray slumps behind his desk knowing he’s dead.
On the floor Wray sees the dart, realizes it is stuck in the folder, not him, and that he has no weapon. Carefully his fingers pull out the dart. Wray roll over on his belly, holds the dart carefully with his right hands’ fingertips and thumb, and knows that when Dibble pulls the door open to Bakman’s office with his left hand his forearm will be close.
The door opens.
Suddenly, Wray leaps to his knees, pokes the dart into Dibble’s exposed forearm, and takes a left-handed swat at the dart with the folder to drive it in deeper.
When the dart stabs into his arm Felden stops, looks at it, and stares at Wray who Dibble thought was dead. With a surprised look on his face Felden watches the slapping folder drive the dart in deeper. Frowning Dibble tries to turn and point his wand at Wray, fails in both actions, drops slowly to his knees, slumps forward to the carpet, and his head thumps against the open office door.
Breen’s face pops on a screen yelling, “What!”
A white-faced shaking Wray yells back at him. “Two dead . . . come up . . . clean it up!”
Ten minutes later after all the hand shaking and congratulations, Wray sat still white-faced and shaking over his brush with death. Thick glasses down on his nose and strangely sweating and shivering Wray sat holding The History of New England that Bakman presented to him while shaking his hand, and Bakman’s words still echo in his head.
“Thanks Wray. You earned it.”