Barton put the model back on his desk and turned to look out the window at the city beyond.
“This entire building is a prototype, Mr. Lockerby,” he said. “I plan to make cheap, radiant power available to the whole city in the next five years.”
He turned back and picked up another model, this time of a crawler.
“Right now, I’m working with Rockefeller to extend the crawler network all over the city.”
“How?” Alex asked, forgetting to keep his mouth shut. Crawlers were faster than cars and rode better; their only problem was that they lost power if they left the radiant field of Empire Tower. As a result, they mostly served the Core and the Inner and Middle-Rings, leaving a huge chunk of the population outside their operating area.
Barton smiled at Alex’s interest.
“We thought about putting an electric rail along the ground, but it was too hard to shield it. Anyone could just walk up and electrocute themselves. So we’re going to raise the rail up above the street and add a second one. Rockefeller’s marketing a new crawler that will run along the rails, right over the top of the traffic. It’ll be even faster, and we’ll tie the rails directly to the tower here, so there won’t be any power problems.”
As he spoke, Barton’s words got faster and faster, like a kid explaining his favorite show at the pictures.
“Sounds great,” Alex said. “What’s the problem?”
Barton’s exuberance faded and he sighed.
“Nothing with that,” he said. “We’ll have the new line to Brooklyn running by New Years. My problem is that I’m dreaming much bigger than that, Mr. Lockerby. I’m not just going to send crawlers out into the city, I’m going to power it all. Everything.”
He picked up the model of his Mark V generator.
“These generators aren’t cheap to build,” he said. “This is my company, but I still have a board and investors to answer to. People who were with me in the beginning.”
“And they don’t want you providing cheap power?” Alex asked.
“It’s not that,” Barton said. “I can put sixty-four of these capacitors in the space of one Mark II. That means I can power the entire state, maybe multiple states, right from here.”
He set the model back on his desk.
“I just have to prove the Mark V works… and I have to have a factory that can build a lot of them.” He picked up a roundish model with gears visible through a cutout and tossed it to Alex. “For that to happen, I need someone else to order a whole bunch of my Mark V Etherium Capacitors.”
“And that’s what this is for?” Alex asked.
“That is a model of a traction motor,” Barton said. “It’s a special kind of electric motor that’s designed to pull trains.”
Now that Alex knew what it was for, he still didn’t see how it could pull a train. It took enormous, coal burning boilers to build up enough steam pressure to move something so large and heavy.
“The B&O railroad has been experimenting with these,” Barton explained. “They hook them up to enormous diesel engines. They generate the electricity needed to move the wheels. It’s powerful enough, but you still have to carry your fuel.”
“And you want to put one of your new Etherium Capacitors on the train instead,” Alex said, figuring out where Barton was going.
“Sorsha said you were smart,” Barton said. “There’s a contest next week down in Baltimore,” he went on. “A bunch of companies will be showing off their traction motors to the B&O and the winner gets a million-dollar prize.”
“And you need the money to build your capacitor factory?”
“I don’t give a fig about the money,” Barton said. “The winner will get to build the new diesel engines for the B&O railroad. It’s the contract I want. My Mark V capacitor isn’t ready yet, but in a year, it will be. If I’m the guy building the diesel locomotives, it will be easy to convince the railroads to convert to my new capacitor. If GE or some other company gets it, they aren’t going to cut me in and by then they’ll have already built hundreds of diesels.”
He took the traction motor back from Alex and held it up.
“This electric motor is twice as strong as anything my competitors can make, and it’s ready right now.”
“But it was stolen,” Alex said, remembering Barton’s phone conversation.
“Right off a truck at my factory,” Barton fumed. “I need you to find it, Mr. Lockerby. I need you to find it yesterday. All my plans for the future, cheap power for the state, everything, depends on me winning that contest and getting the contract with the railroad. If I get orders for the Mark V capacitor I can build Etherium towers all over the world. No one will be without electricity. No one will freeze to death in winter because they couldn’t afford coal to heat their houses. Think about it.”
“So you’re just a misunderstood altruist?” Alex said, managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice by sheer force of will.
Barton actually laughed at that, a hearty, genuinely amused laugh.
“Of course not,” he said. “I said cheap power, not free. Even at one or two percent profit, I’ll be richer than Solomon inside ten years. That’s business, kid. The world gets limitless electricity and I get rich.”
“So why are you telling me all this?” Alex asked.
Barton actually looked surprised at that.
“Isn’t that how finding runes work?” he asked. “The more you know about the missing object and the people and causes it’s connected to, the better the rune works?”
That was exactly how finding runes worked but Alex was surprised that Barton knew it. Most sorcerers dismissively referred to alchemists and runewrights as Lessers.
“All right, Mr. Barton,” Alex said. “I’ll find your missing motor for you. I’ll need to get my kit.”
“You don’t have your tools of the trade with you?” Barton asked with an admonishing tone.
Alex pointed to the wooden crate of glassware still sitting on the carpet.
“I was on a different case when your boys picked me up,” Alex said, pulling a piece of chalk out of his trouser pocket. “But don’t worry, this and a bare patch of wall are all the tools I need.”
Barton perked up at that; apparently he knew about runewright vaults too. He showed Alex out into a hallway off the office where several secretaries were busily transcribing documents and filling out the mountain of paperwork that kept large businesses running. Alex saw Bickman’s wife, Marjorie, among them and he waved at her.
When Alex opened his vault, Barton insisted on being shown around and spent ten minutes poking into all the shelves and cupboards, asking about the various tools, inks, powders, and oils used in the runewright trade.
“Fascinating,” he said when Alex finally closed the steel door and it melted away, leaving only the wall and the chalk outline behind.
With a grin, Barton reached into thin air and pulled a white cloth into his hand. He passed it to Gary Bickman and then repeated the move with a bottle of cleaning solution. Alex couldn’t help but be jealous. He’d first seen sorcerers do this when Sorsha had pulled a notebook from the empty air when she interviewed him about the Archimedean Monograph. She’d done it casually and without fanfare, yet it was more than Alex could do on his best day.
“Showoff,” he said with a grin.
“Make sure that chalk outline is completely gone, Gary,” Barton said, handing the cloth to Bickman. “I don’t think Mr. Lockerby could use it to gain entry to my office, but there’s no sense taking chances.”
Despite the explanation, Alex knew full well that Barton had done it to emphasize the difference between their relative abilities. Still, Alex took some pleasure in the fact that Barton needed him and his finding rune to get his motor back.