Owen had slept in for the first time in months, he was feeling a good deal of relief as the previous day had seen the conclusion of the development of the energy suppression device, the ESD as it had became known. They had developed three versions of ESD, a wide range version that was capable of generating a field about ten kilometres radius, with a variable range control. There was a vehicle mounted model, designed for military and police use, and there was a personal version, about the size of a mobile COM-unit, which clipped to a belt or pocket and had a hydrogen self- generating battery. The battery, which was more accurately called a power-cell, was a new development of the Pickles organisation, a larger unit had been classified as strategic material, but this small cell had been released as a 'built in' sub-assembly.
Although Owen felt some satisfaction for the work he had done, he was relieved to have finished the program, and relieved to be away from his association with Rick Pickles, of whom he had some grave misgivings. The Professor retrieved his toast from the toaster and applied a generous helping of real butter, a very expensive commodity in this day and age. With his usual tea he settled down to watch the morning news on the BBC channel. He just caught the end of a news item concerning the Mediterranean Fissure that was now slowly creeping south-east from Crete. The news item reminded him that he had promised to call Jim some months ago, but just hadn't had time. Owen finished his toast and grabbed his COM-unit and pressed the icon that would connect him with his friend, Sir James Markson.
“Hello, Jim, Owen,” he announced.
“Well hello Owen, we thought you'd left the planet,” chided Jim.
“I know, I know, it's just been frantic here, but we finished up with the suppressor yesterday and I am having a relaxing weekend, I'm sat here in my robe, sipping my tea and talking to my friend.”
“Well you deserve it Owen,” said Jim.
“Where are you Jim, are you still in Cyprus,” Owen asked.
“Yes, we came out and then got stuck here with all the volcanic activity, most of the staff are here now, so we thought we may as well stay for the time being, and then there's the weather, a lot warmer than Dorset.”
“How are you fixed with that fissure in the Med?”
“We seem to be OK,” said Jim, “currently it's about a hundred and twenty miles away, it seems to be warming the sea up so we all make the most of it and go for the occasional swim.”
“All-right for some, while I'm stuck in rainy Manchester.”
“Well Owen you are welcome here at any time.”
“I will take you up on that, Jim and soon.”
“You said you were concerned about Rick Pickles when we last spoke, is everything sorted itself out,” asked Jim.
“Well not really, the man's a megalomaniac, you know he's been wearing the first prototype device since we produced it about two months ago, he thinks he's superman, invulnerable.”
“He's probably just a guy that loves gadgets,” Jim suggested, “his whole empire is based on them.”
“No, it's more than that Jim, he actually contacted Heidi Goldbloom and said he would walk into the Temple Mount site to sort the Palestinians out, he wasn't kidding either.”
“Owen, she's a friend of his, has been for years, so it's natural that he would want to help her out.”
“You haven't seen the gizmo’s he's developed and kept secret. John Harrison, Rick's senior engineer told me, I think he was trying to get me to join the organisation. He said Rick has this ring, looks like it's got a huge ruby in it, but in reality it converts solar radiation into a short- range laser weapon. Then I noticed, he wears that all the time, saw it on his finger. Did you know it was Pickles that developed the bio-chip? To date there are about half a billion people that have had the chip fitted, they think it's just a convenience but a convenience for who? Who knows what he's programmed into those things, I'm willing to bet there's a bit more than financial transactions in those chips, and the governments are always advertising for people to have them embedded. And, he's been trying to get me to introduce you to him, because he wants to get into one of the control rooms.”
“Why hasn't he asked PM Goldbloom, she could let him have access to the Temple mount room,” asked Jim. “Ah, well, it seems that he has, and has been refused, supposedly it's out of bounds to anyone other than the Trust and Israeli security, and who gets in is down to Ben Marks. What does he know about Rick that we don't?”
“Well I guess they have their reasons,” said Jim as soothingly as he could, “When do you think we may see you over here?”
“Not a very subtle change of subject Jim,” laughed Owen, “maybe I'll come over at Easter, if you are still there, or if we are still here.”
“See you then, hopefully.”
“You can bet on it.”